,4 


X 


i-l+^'''^ 


Uv     ' 


'Jh> 


l'^ 


Y 


/ 


SOUYEJ^IRS 


TRAVEL. 


MADAME  OCTAVIA  WALTOIf  LE  VERT. 


VOL  I. 


MOBILE: 

S.    H.    GOETZEL   AND   COMPANY,   No.    33    Dauphin    Stuekt. 

New    York:    No.    117    Fulton   Strket. 

1857. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tlie  year  1S57,  by 

S.  II.  GOETZEL  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  OfBce  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  Alabama. 

Geo.  E.  Holt, 

Clerk.  Sou.  Dist.  Alabama. 


JOHN    F.    TROW, 

B«ok  and  Job  Brinter, 

879  B'dway,  N.  Y. 


TO 

MY  MOTHER,  • 

THESE  SOUVENIRS  OF  TRAVEL, 
BY 

HER  LOVING  CHILD. 


PUBLISHEES'    PREFACE. 

The  materials  of  these  volumes  were  not  originally  designed 
for  publication.  They  consist  chiefly  of  the  private  letters, 
journals,  and  sketches  of  a  distinguished  American  lady, 
during  two  visits  to  Europe.  Her  social  position  at  home, 
and  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  highest  circles 
abroad,  gave  her  familiar  access  to  scenes  and  personages 
and  conditions  of  life  not  ordinarily  within  the  reach  of 
the  foreign  traveller.  The  mystic  veil  which  hides  the 
penetralia  of  courtly  and  aristocratic  society,  was  lifted  for 
her  eyes,  and  she  was  facilitated  in  her  observations  and 
experiences  to  a  degree  seldom  awarded  to  an  American 
before.  With  the  readiest  and  keenest  powers  of  percep- 
tion, with  a  mind  fully  informed  historically  as  to  all  the 
localities  she  visited,  with  a  wonderfully  retentive  memory, 
retaining  all  the  sands  of  gold  that  filtrated  through  its 
stream,  and  with  the  most  genial  and  appreciative  sympathies 
for  whatever  is  best  and  most  beautiful  in  literature,  art,  and 
social  intercourse,   she   combined   advantages  calculated  to 


VI 

make  her  visits  missions  fruitful  with  facts  and  views  of 
wide  general  interest  and  utility. 

Some  of  her  letters  to  her  friends,  written  during  the 
hurry  of  travel,  were  yet  so  graphic  and  attractive  that 
they  were  given  to  the  press;  and  being  reproduced  all 
through  the  country,  excited  an  almost  universal  desire  for 
the  publication  of  a  full  account  of  her  travels.  Those 
friends  who  were  admitted  to  her  intimacies  at  home,  be- 
came aware  what  a  rich  mine  of  pleasing  information,  and 
interesting  adventure,  existed  in  the  various  memoranda 
she  had  made  while  in  Europe.  Their  solicitations,  and 
reiterated  persuasions  from  literary  friends  in  all  parts  of 
the  Union,  led  to  the  preparation  of  this  volume.  The 
original  journals  and  letters  have  been  carefully  revised  by 
their  author,  additional  memorials  have  been  added,  and 
many  parts  that  in  the  original  form  necessarily  partook 
largely  of  the  personal  and  egotistic,  have  been  omitted. 

This  statement  might  suffice  to  introduce  these  Souve- 
nirs OF  Travel  to  the  world,  but  the  Publishers  deem  it 
proper  to  add  a  few  words  as  to  the  gifted  and  accomplished 
author.  Madame  Octavia  "Walton  Le  Vert  is  perhaps  more 
widely  known,  in  a  social  way,  than  any  other  American 
lady.  Born  in  Georgia,  the  grandchild  of  that  Walton 
who  was  both  sage  and  soldier  in  the  Revolution,  and  whose 
name  is  immortal  on  the  Chart  of  American  Freedom,  she 
had  from  her  infancy  the  highest  social  and  intellectual  ad- 
vantages. Reared  to  womanhood  at  Pensacola,  she  received 
the  most  thorough  instruction,  and  became  fully  versed  not 


Vll 

only  in  her  native  tongue,  but  in  the  French,  Spanish,  and 
Italian  languages,  speaking  and  writing  them  with  accuracy 
and  elegance.  The  presence  of  the  Navy  officers  at  Peu- 
sacola  gave  a  great  charm  to  the  society  there,  and 
under  the  most  propitious  auspices  the  young  flower 
expanded  to  light  and  beauty.  The  gifts  of  personal  loveli- 
ness were  hers  in  a  very  high  degree  ;  but  her  intellectual 
accomplishments,  and  the  perpetual  sunshine  of  a  gay  and 
joyous  spirit,  always  amiable,  kind,  and  considerate,  gave  to 
their  possessor  her  chief  charms.  Visiting  the  principal 
cities  of  the  Union,  and  the  principal  points  of  fashionable 
resort,  Miss  Walton  became  widely  known,  admired,  and  be- 
loved. At  Washington  City  she  was  early  honored  by  the 
warm  friendship  of  Mr.  Clay,  which  continued  until  his 
death, — an  event  that  drew  from  his  fair  friend  one  of  the 
most  touching  and  eloquent  tributes  to  his  memory.  Mr. 
Calhoun  also  was  exceedingly  kind  to  the  "  gifted  daughter 
of  the  South,"  as  he  was  pleased  to  call  her,  and  particularly 
admired  a  series  of  sketches  of  distinguished  Senators,  Repre- 
sentatives, and  Statesmen,  whom  she  had  met  at  the  Federal 
Capital, — a  work  which  we  regret  has  never  been  published. 
The  life  of  a  lady  is  commonly  a  calm  current  of  domestic 
duties  and  social  benevolences.  The  author  of  these  volumes 
became  the  wife  of  Dr.  Henry  S.  Le  Yert,  a  learned  and  emi- 
nent physician  of  Mobile,  Alabama.  A  circle  of  beautiful 
children  sprang  up  around  them,  and  claimed  the  constant 
care  and  nurture  of  their  mother.  In  the  performance  of 
this  part  has  been  one  of  the  chief  beauties  of  her  life.     At 


Vlll 


the  same  time,  she  has  filled  the  highest  social  position,  and 
dispensed  the  most  enlarged  hospitality.  No  stranger  of 
distinction  has  visited  Mobile  for  years,  without  seeking  her 
acquaintance,  and  receiving  the  most  cordial  kindness.  This 
has  made  her  friends  in  every  part  of  the  world,  and  among 
the  most  influential  personages.  Lady  Emeline  Stuart 
"Wortley,  a  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Rutland,  and  of  the 
household  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  Frederika  Bremer,  the 
gifted  novelist  of  Sweden,  whose  more  than  royal  fame  is 
everywhere  acknowledged,  thus  became  united  in  ties  of  the 
strongest  personal  friendship,  baptized  too,  as  it  were,  in 
tears  of  mutual  sympathy  and  suffering  at  the  time,  with 
Madame  Le  Yert. 

These  acquaintanceships  were  mainly  influential  in  in- 
ducing the  first  visit  of  our  fair  countrywoman  to  Europe, 
and  gave  her  that  immediate  entree  into  the  highest  society, 
whose  experiences  constitute  the  chief  specialty  of  her 
Souvenirs. 

Of  the  intrinsic  characteristics  of  the  present  volume,  the 
publishers  will  not  particularly  speak.  The  book,  they  think, 
will  be  found  fully  worthy  of  the  high  fame  of  the  author. 
Upon  her  part,  it  is  given  to  the  public  with  the  most  shrink- 
ing reluctance.  She  does  not  aspire  to  the  laurels  of  author- 
ship, but  only  desires  to  impart  to  others  the  pleasure  re- 
ceived from  wandering  amid  the  storied  scenes  of  the  Old 
World,  and  holding  social  communion  with  personages  whose 
names  arc  "  whispered  by  the  lips  of  fame."  Few  itineraries, 
however,  will  be  found  so  full  of  valuable  information,  so 


PUBLISHERS     PREFACE.  IX 

rich  in  brilliant  descriptions,  and  so  picturesque  and  glowing 
in  style  and  arrangement  of  particulars.  This  will  make  the 
book  invaluable  to  all  of  our  citizens  who  may  visit  Europe, 
and  wish  to  have  an  intelligent  guide  and  companion  in  their 
travels.  One  pervading  charm  they  will  find  in  these  volumes, 
that  will  stir  and  keep  fresh  their  own  patriotism, — that  in 
all  her  wanderings,  whether  at  the  refined  court  of  St.  James 
in  the  imperial  presence  of  Louis  Napoleon,  or  under  the 
consecrated  tapestries  of  the  Papal  palace,  our  accomplished 
countrywoman  was  ever  staunchly  true  to  her  republican 
lineage,  and  came  back  home  American  in  heart  and  mind. 

With  these  thoughts  as  to  the  book  and  its  author,  the 
publishers  respectfully  submit  it  to  the  reader,  confident  that 
they  have  made  a  valuable  contribution  to  a  most  interesting 
branch  of  the  rising  literature  of  our  country. 

Mobile,  July^  185T. 


ERRATA. 

Vol.  I.     Page   2d,  5th  line   from   bottom,   for  ^'Sovereign"  read 

"  Sovereigns." 
"         Page  3d,  11th  line,  for  "  sung"  read  '^sunk." 
"  Page  38,  llth  line,  for  " SC  Peter  read  "  Sir''  Peter. 

*  Page  21Y,  4tli  line  from   bottom,  lor   "Fesckier"  read 

"  Peschiera.'* 
"         Page    330,  8th  f  line    from   bottom, '  for   '' Lucar"  read 

"  Lucas:' 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEPw  I. 

PAGE 

Departure  from  New  York — Alabama — Concert — Arrival  at  Liverpool — The 
Adelphi — Drive  through  the  City— The  Docks— Policemen         .  .      1 

CHAPTER  II. 

Leave  Liverpool  for  Loudon — Railway  Comforts  —  London  —  The  Street- 
S weeper— Matinee  Dansante— Bosio  and  Gardoni — Rachel — Haymarket 
Theatre — The  Parks— Westminster  Abbey— Shakspeare's  Monument — 
Tombs  of  Milton,  Sheridan,  and  others — Monument  to  Andre — Tombs  of 
the  Queens — Palace  of  Westminster — Lord  Campbell 7 

CHAPTER  IIL 

British  Museum— Horticultural  Exposition— Mrs.  Crosland— Grace  Green- 
wood— Streets  of  London — Hyde  Park— Statue  of  Achilles — English 
Horsewomen— Fanny  Haworth— House  of  Peers— Italian  Opera— Covent 
Garden— The  Rutland  Family— Lord  and  Lady  John  Manners — The  Misses 
Pyne  and  Mr.  Harrison 13 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Prince  Czarstorisky — ^Lord  and  Lady  Wharncliffe— The  Star  Family— The 
American  Minister 26 

CHAPTER  V. 
Queen  Victoria's  Ball  at  Buckingham  Palace— Entrance  of  the  Queen — Ap- 
pearance of  the  Qucpn — Prince  Albert — King  and  Quetii  of  Hanover — 
Count  and  Countess  Walewski— The  Presentation— The  Duchess  of  Suth- 
erland— Duke  of  Wellington— Her  Majesty  in  the  Dance — Sculpture  and 
Picture  Galleries— Etiquette  on  leaving  the  Palace— A  Picture  in  Me- 
mory      81 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Church  of  the  Crusaders— Fourth  of  July— Tower  of  London— Queen 
Elizabeth's  Armory — Dungeon  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh — The  Regalia  of 
England— Traitor's  Gate— Thames  Tunnel- Cost  of  the  Tunnel— Madame 


XU  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Celeste — Studios  of  "Westmncott  and  Marochettl— Spirit  Rapplngs— House 
of  Commons— D'Israeli  and  Lord  John  Kussell— The  "Women  listen  behind 
the  Scenes — A  true  English  Home— Dr.  Bowring — The  Dinners  in  Lon- 
don—English Racing  Game 40 

CHAPTER   VIL 

Picture-Gallery  at  Grosvenor  House— Greenwich— Black  Heath— Sir  Henry 
Bishop— The  poet  Freiligrath — Moonlight  and  Midnight— Stafford  House 
— Picture-Gallery — The  Duchess  a  Favorite  with  the  Queen — Poverty  and 
Plenty— Mr.  Ingersoll—Rossiter— Floral  F^te— Sudden  Shower— St.  Paul's 
Cathedral— Noble  Monuments— Princess's  Theatre — Byron's  Sardanapalus    51 

CHAPTER  VIIL 

Lady  Emmeline  "Wortley- Friendly  Tributes 62 

CHAPTER  IX- 

Windsor  Castle— Cenotaph  of  Princess  Charlotte — Grisi — The  new  Opera,  Ri- 
goletto — Gobelin  Tapestry — Private  Apartments  of  the  Queen — Her  Ma- 
jesty's Kitchen  and  Stables — Gray's  Elegy— Mary  Howitt— Kossuth — 
Lady  Morgan — Lady  Clementina  Villars 64 

CHAPTER  X. 
Belvoir  Castle— Entrance  to  the  Castle — Reception-Room— The     Drawing- 
Rooms,  Library,  and    Ball-Room—Picture-Galleries— Apartments  of  the 
Queen— Woodstock— Apartments  of  the  Duchess  of  Rutland— Mausoleum 
of  the  Duchess — Letters  from  Homo 72 

CHAPTER  XL 

Distingnishcd  Writers- Foreign  Ministers  and  other  Celebrities— Egyptian 
Hall— Farewell  to  London 78 

CHAPTER  XIL 

Paris— Steamer  Incident— Arrival  at  Paris— Petra  Camera— Railway  to  Ver- 
sailles— Tale  of  the  Ravine — The  Palace — Basins  of  Neptune  and  Apollo — 
The  Great  Waters  play — Interior  of  the  Palace — Paintings  and  Statuary — 
Marie  Antoinette— Portrait  of  Washington— Statue  of  Jean  d'Arc— Re- 
turn to  Paris — Boulevards — Church  of  La  Madeleine— Group  by  Marochctti    82 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Opera  Comique— Gardens  of  the  Tuileries— Place  de  la  Concorde— Champs 
Elysees— Arc  de  Triomphe  de  I'Etoile— Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand— Death  of 
Duke  of  Orleans— Exhilarating  Air  of  Paris — The  Louvre— The  Conception 
by  Murillo — Grand  Gallery— Daughter  of  Baron  Gros— Interesting  Relics 
— Imperial  Museum— Improvements  in  Paris— Palais  Royal— Galleries 
roofed  with  Gla.s3 94 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Cathedralo  de  Notre  Dame — Place  of  Coronation — Hotel  Dieu— The  fearful 
Morgue— Hall  aux  Vlns— Menagerie— Botnnical  ^inrdi-n.— Winter  Oiinh-n 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

PAGE 

—Tomb  of  Ab61ard  and  H6loise— Nameless  Monument— Child's  Grave- 
Voices  from  the  Past— Museum  of  Natural  Antiquities— Stockbrokers'  and 
Merchants'  Exchange 

CHAPTER   XV. 
Palace  of  the  Luxembourg— Historical  Memories— Hotel  de  Ville— Flower 
Market — Opera — Gallery  of  Louis  Philippe— Hotel  des  Invalides — Tomb 
of  Napoleon— Place  de  la  Bastile— St.  Cloud— Champs  Elysees— Shadows 
in  the  Sunlight 11-1 

CHAPTER    XVL 
Leave  Paris— Brussels— Walk    about  the   City— Importunate    Beggars    and 
Guides— Field  of  Waterloo — Church  of  St.  Gudule— Manufactory  of  Lace 
— Alice  Verte— Tomb  of  Malibran— Birthplace  of  Charlemagne— Shrine  oi 
the  Magi— Cologne  Water  of  Jean  Farina 12-2 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Rhine— Legend  of  the  Island  Convent— Ehrenbrietstien— Picturesque 
Ruins— Castle  of  Stolzenfels— Cat  and  Mouse  Castles— Old  Ruin  of  Rhien- 
fels— Seven  Petrified  Maidens— Altar  of  Bacchus— The  Rhine  Valley- 
Town  of  Bingen— "  Bingen  on  the  Rhine  "—Legend  of  the  Fair  Gisela— 
Birthplace  of  Guttemberg— Adieu  to  the  Rhine 130 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Castle  of  Heidelberg— Female  Peasantry— Baden  Baden— Gaming  Tables- 
Russian  Princess— The  Young  and  Fair  among  the  Gamesters— Gaming- 
Table  Horrors— The  Trinkhalle— Mummy  Gamester— Gaming  a  Passion 
with  the  Germans— Strasbourg— Astronomical  Clock— Basle,  Switzerland 
—View  from  Mount  Chinchona— Old  Man  of  the  Tower— Battle-Field  of 
St  Jacob — Seatsfield— Home  Letters 141 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Paris— The  Italian  Singer— Grand  Review— The  Empress— The  Emperor- 
Preparations  for  the  Fete  of  Napoleon — Festivities— Illuminations — Impe- 
rial Crown— The  little  Illuminator— Fireworks — Apotheosis  of  Napoleon — 
Fontainebleau— Forest— Palace— Hermitage  of  Franchard— Reminiscences 
of  Napoleon 154 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Dijon— Impatient  and  Pompous  Guard— Jura  Mountains — The  Ascent — View 
from  the  Summit— Mont  Blanc— Lake  Leman 165 

CHAPTER  XXL 

Monument  of  Rousseau— Calvin— John  Knox— Burial-place  of  Calvin— Iron 
Saucepan— Model  of  Mont  Blanc— The  Junction— Ferney— Sad  Accident — 
The  Blue  Rhone— Scenes  upon  the  Lake— Cathedral— Alpine  Storm— Hur- 


XIV  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

ried  Departure— Sea-Sickness  on  Lake  Leman— Eousscau's  Opinion  of  Ve- 
vay — Clarenz— Montreux — Ascent  and  Descent  of  the  Towers— Kelease  of 
Bonnivard — His  Dungeon — View  from  the  Apertures — Footjjrints — Tlie 
Skeptical  Englishman — Courteous  People — View  from  Clarenz — Drive 
along  the  Slopes  of  Lake  Leman— Tradition  of  the  Bridge  of  St  Maurice 
—The  Cretins— The  Goitres— Bricg 171 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

£oad  across  the  Simplon  Mountain — Ascent— View  from  the  first  Post-House 
— Glaciers — Glacier  Galleries — View  from  tlie  Precipice — Culminating 
Point  of  the  Eoad— Dogs  of  Great  St.  Bernard— Houses  of  Eefuge — A 
Friend  on  the  Summit  of  the  Simplon — Gorge  of  Gondo — Frascinnone 
Waterfall— Grand  Melodies— Inn  of  Isella— Traces  of  the  Storm  of  1839    186 

CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

Val  d'Ossolo— Beggary  a  Profession — A  last  Look— Lazzaroni- Hotel  de  Ville 
—Distance  lends  Enchantment— Beggars— Handl ess  and  Footless  Btggar- 
Boy— The  Women  and  Horses— Babies  done  up  in  Bales— Maggiore— View 
from  the  Shore- The  old  Temple— Isola  Bella— Palace  of  the  Count  Bor- 
romeo— Grottoes— Terrace— Isola  Madre— Gardens— The  Laurel  Tree— 
Lavono— Drive  to  Como— Lake  of  Como— Views  Afloat— Communicative 
Boatmen— Taglioni  and  her  Daughters— Pasta's  Villa— Bed-chamber— 
The  Grounds  and  Gardens— Pasta's  Bower— Pliniana— Villa  Mombollo     .  194 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Como— Milan— Origin  of  the  word  "  Milliner"— People  of  Milan— Cathedral  of 
Milan— Exterior—Interior—Tomb  of  San  Carlo  Borromeo— "  Last  Supper"' 
by  Leonardo  da  Vinci— La  Brcra— Paintings  and  Sculpture — Castcl  Barco 
— Imperial  Palace — Interior  of  La  Scala — The  Dancers — Appropriate  Bas 
Eelief— The  Corso — Pleasant  Drive— View  from*  the  Cathedral— High 
Mass — Leave  Milan — Annoying  Postillion — Italy  chafes  in  her  Boudage- 
Pischicra— Austrian  Soldiers 207 

CHAPTEE  XXV. 

Verona — Tomb  of  Juliet — Eoman  Amphitheatre — San  Zenone — Paul  Veronese 
— Vicenza — Padua  the  Powerful — Cafe  Pedrocchi — Paduan  Celebrities — 
Church  of  San  Antonio — The  Eailway — Beautiful  Vineyards — Place  of  the 
Siege — Scene  at  the  Custom  House — The  name  "America  "  a  spell — Gon- 
dolas—Canal Streets— Palaces — Palatial  Hotel— Serenade    ....  218 

CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

Venice — Cathedral  of  San  Marco — Interior  Decorations— Grand  Altar— Tower 
of  the  (Mock — Piazza  di  San  Marco — Sacred  Pigeons — Ducal  Palace — Stat- 
ues— Pictures — Hall  of  tlie  Great  Council — Tintoretto— Paintings — Eape 
of  Kiinipa-Mu.soum — Chamber  of  the  Council  of  Tun — Bridge  of  Sighs — 


CONTENTS.  XV 

PAGE 

Academia— Titian— Goethe's  Theory— Opera  of  "  Attila  the  Hun  "—Palace 
of  Foscavi- Byron's  Tragedy — Byron's  Eooin  at  Mocenigo  Palace— Bridge 
of  the  Eialto— Sketch  of  the  Duke  de  Barri— Manfrini  Palace— Portraits— 
Palazzo  Trevisano—Bianca— Flight  of  Bianca  and  Pictro— Nuptials  of  Bi- 
anca  and  Francisco— Death  of  Bianca  by  poison— Motley  Group— Perfect 
Locomotion— Our  Gondola  and  our  Gondolier — Music  on  the  Lagunes — 
Augustino— The  one  Ornament  of  the  Gondola— The  City  reflected— Night 
View  of  Piazza  San  Marco— The  Venetians- Silence  of  the  Streets — Foun- 
dation and  Early  Days  of  Venice— Luminous  Names  in  Venetian  History  228 

CHAPTEE  XXVIL 

Churches  of  Venice — Church  of  Santissimo  Eedentore — Paul  Veronese  sleeps 
among  the  "Works  of  his  Genius — Brides  of  Venice — Venice  in  her  Prime — 
Courtesy  of  the  Priests— Church  of  Santa  Maria  dei  Frari— Monuments  of 
Titian  and  Canova;  of  the  Doges  Foscari  and  Nicolo  Tron;  of  the  Doge 
Pesaro — Houses  of  Distinguished  Men— Armenian  Convent — Mad-House — 
Arsenal— Blind  Dandolo— Wedding  the  Adriatic — Dante's  Genius— Monu- 
ment of  Angelo  Emo — Last  Evening  in  Venice— Voyage  around  the  City    249 

CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

Departure  ft-om  Venice— Colt's  Eevolver— Scenes  by  the  "Way- Eocco  d'Anfo 
— Isco— Lovere — Different  Dialects — Malatia— Bergamo— Milan— Binasco 
— Eice  Plantations— Malaria— Certosa  of  Pavia — University  of  Pa\ia— Val- 
leys of  Vines — Field  of  Marengo — Power  of  Napoleon's  Will — Sardinian 
Officers — Alessandria — The  Apennines — First  View  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea— Enter  Genoa— Prospect  from  the  Hotel  Tower — Breakfast— Apples  of 
Love — Sunset  Walk — Narrow  Streets — Promenade  of  Genoa — Graceful 
Head-dress — Lost  in  the  Narrow  Streets — Sailor  Guide — Church  of  the  An- 
nunciation—Denied admittance  to  the  Chapel  of  St.  John  the  Baptist — Pal- 
aces— Terraces — Beggar  of  the  Wooden  Bowl — Ascension  Chairs — Palazzo 
Doria— Andrea  Doria— Monument  of  Columbus— Port  of  Genoa— Street 
of  the  Jewellers— Departure  from  Genoa^Sunset  at  Sea     ....  269 

CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

Marseilles— Shores  of  the  Mediterranean — Avignon — The  Old  Friar— Sister  of 
Charity — The  Ehone — Miserable  Cabin  of  the  Steamer — Lyons — "  Lady  of 
Lyons"— Views  on  the  Saone — Paris— Eeturn  to  England— Voyage 
Home 277 

CHAPTEE  XXX. 

Second  Tour- Departure  from  New  Orleans— Arrival  at  Havana— Hotel  Cu- 
bano— Drive  on  the  Squares— The  Volantes— A  Cuban  Custom— Fine  At- 
mosphere-Tropical Storm-  Streets— Houses— Deliciously  Lazy  Women 
—Cuban  Men— A  Drive— The  Palm  Tree— Delightful  Air  of  the  Tropics- 
Sidney  Smith— Plaza  de  Armas— Walk  by  Moonlight— Sefior  Navarro— 
Tacon  Theatre— Senoritas  in  the  Boxes— La  Fiorentini— Dominica's— A 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

"Norther  "—Visit  from  the  Consul — Evening  at  the  Palace— Gen.  Concha 
—The  "Norther"  at  work  with  the  Waves— The  British  Fleet— Bishop's 
Garden — Bamboo  Cane — Cucuyos — The  Corso — Dr.  Lc  Eivereud — Garden 
— Grottoes  and  Arbors 287 

CHAPTEE  XXXI. 

City  of  Jlavana— The  Prison— The  Blood-Stained  Beach— Cathedral  contain- 
ing the  Ashes  of  Columbus — Evening  Party  of  the  British  Consul — Jolly 
Clergymen — A  Sweet  Child  of  Song — Dr.  Scherzer's  Keminiscences  of 
Ilayti— Drive  .in  a  Yolante — The  Guagiros— Service  on  the  Flag-ship  of 
the  Admiral— Kow  around  the  Harbor 301 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  Bnll-Fight — Eny  Gomez,  the  Matador— Eevolting  Spectacle— A  happy 
People— The  Opera— Arrival  of  the  "  Fernando  el  Catolico  " — Spanish  Sol- 
diers—Yomito     308 

CHAPTEE  XXXIII. 
The  Palace  Ball— Concert  in  the  Open  Air- Fish  Market 813 

CHAPTEE  XXXIV. 

Moro  Castle — Splendid  Ball  at  the  House  of  the  British  Consul — Invalids — A 
Fair  Child  of  the  North— Eeview  of  the  Troops— Gala  Night  at  the  Tacon 
— Adieus 815 

CHAPTEE  XXXV. 

Departure  from  Havana— The  Steamer  and  the  Passengers— The  Cuban  Girl, 
Dolores— Sense  of  Security— Courtesy  of  the  Officers— Evenings  in  the 
Saloon — Sunrise  on  the  Atlantic— Land— Meetings  and  Greetings— Poor 
Dolores !— Leave  the  Steamer  with  Eegret— Arrival  at  Cadiz— Aspect  of 
the  City— Brief  Historical  Sketch— Eamparts-Tlre  Gaditanas— The  Dark- 
eyed  Maid  of  Cadiz-  -Last  Painting  of  Murillo— Theatre— Love-Dance— 
Graceful  Carriage  of  the  Gaditanas — Points  of  interest  about  Cadiz — View 
from  the  Steamer— Atalayas— The  Convent— The  Pines—"  Fidelity  "— 
Orange  and  Olive  Groves— Las  Dolicias— Pleasant  "Welcome  from  the 
People 819 

CHAPTER  XXXVL 

Sovilla- The  Great  Altiir— Murillo's  Tribute— Treasures  of  the  Custodia— 
Columbus'  Letters— Ascent  of  the  Tower— Giralda— View  from  the  Tower 
—The  Acazar— Peter  the  Cruel— Blanche  of  Castile— Gardens— Moorish 
Temples— Grottoes— Imposing  Orange  Tree— House  of  Pontius  Pilate — 
Pictures  for  the  Paris  Exposition — Houses  of  So  villa — Birtliplace  of  Murillo 
—His  Pictures  of  the  Virgin— House  and  Tablet  of  Murillo— The  Gipsies- 
Beautiful  Gipsy  Girl — The  Tobacco  Workers— Drives  around  Sevilhi— 
Quemadcro— Beggars — Negro  without  Hands— Departure  from  Sovilla.        8-"J4 


SOUVENIRS  OF  TRAVEL 


CHAPTER    I. 


It  was  just  twelve  o'clock,  June  11th,  1853,  when  the  great 
gun  of  the  Atlantic  sounded  forth  its  farewell  to  America. 
The  wharves  and  shipping  around  were  thronged  with  a 
dense  mass  of  human  beings,  whose  loud  cheers  answered  the 
cannon's  roar.  Many  were  the  kind  faces  beaming  with 
friendship  upon  us  as  the  noble  ship  gracefully  passed  from 
her  moorings.  There  was  no  sadness  in  their  glances,  and 
my  own  heart  bounded  with  joy,  as  the  shores  of  the  beauti- 
ful bay  melted  into  distance. 

The  dream  of  my  life  had  been  to  visit  Europe,  and  now 
the  great  white  wings  of  the  Atlantic,  aided  by  the  Magician 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  mighty  steam,  was  about  to  real- 
ize my  brightest  hopes.  My  emotions  were  full  of  radiant 
delight,  as  bright  and  sparkling  as  the  myriad  diamond  drops 
which  fell  in  showers  from  the  swift-moving  wheels  of  the 
glorious  steamer. 

There  were  more  than  two  hundred  passengers,  and  never 
was  assembled  a  more  merry,  gonial,  agreeable  set  of  persons. 
Vol.  T.— 1 


Z  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

All  portions  of  the  world  seemed  represented,  (save  China.) 
There  were  Frenchmen,  Germans,  Englishmen,  Spaniards, 
and  Norwegians — Chilians  from  the  silver  mines — Peruvians 
from  near  the  equator — Cubans  from  the  "  Gem  of  the  An- 
tilles " — Califoruians,  hastening  to  the  Old  World,  to  -pur- 
chase with  their  gold  recompense  for  many  a  privation ;  also 
an  Australian,  who  had  been  among  the  first  to  dig  the 
precious  metal  in  that  far-away  land.  There  were  blooming 
English  and  lovely  American  women ;  statesmen,  judges, 
generals,  and  orators,  poets,  artists,  and  musicians.  A  spirit 
of  kindness  and  cordiality  encircled  us,  and  each  one  appeared 
earnest  for  the  other's  happiness. 

For  two  days,  life  was  an  enchantment ;  but  upon  the 
third  day  I  was  seized  by  that  demon  of  the  ocean ^  (in  com- 
mon parlance,  sea-sickness,)  and  so  tightly  did  he  grasp  me, 
that  for  several  days  I  lay  still  and  death-like.  However, 
the  "  indomitable  will "  of  ray  nature  would  be  no  longer 
controlled,  and  then  came  on  a  fierce  struggle  between  us. 
I  would  not  yield,  though  my  anguish  was  inexpressible. 
Each  day  I  ascended  the  deck,  in  spite  of  the  icy  coldness  of 
the  wind,  which  betokened  our  near  approacli  to  the  icebergs. 

My  good  friends,  after  bringing  me  on  deck,  would  wrap 
me  up,  like  an  Egyptian  mummy,  in  bufi"alo  robes,  California 
blankets,  and  Mexican  ponchos.  In  truth,  none  of  the  mum- 
mies of  old  had  more  valuable  enwrapments.  Sometime's 
we  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  a  great  buffiilo  robe,  brought  from 
Chicago  by  a  gentleman  en  route  for  England,  and  intended 
as  a  present  to  Queen  Victoria.  Very  gallantly  he  permitted 
the  "  sovereign  "  of  his  own  country  to  make  it  a  resting- 
place.  To  cheer  the  long  hours,  I  often  told  them  Indian 
legends,  and  one  of  the  "  Alabama  •'  (signifying  "  here  we 
rest " )  pleased  the  group  so  much,  that  whenever  I  came  on 
deck  they  would  seize  the  magnificent  robe,  and  casting  it 


OS) 


CONCERT.  3 

down  would  cry  out,  "  Come,  dear  madam,  here  is  your 
Alabama."  Sweet  are  the  memories  of  those  pleasant  days, 
when  kindness  and  gentle  words  even  cheated  sea-sickness 
of  half  its  horrors.  The  captain,  with  his  broad,  stalwart 
form,  and  benevolent  smile,  was  often  near  to  cheer  us  with 
the  hope  of  a  speedy  arrival.  The  weather,  although  cold 
was  delightful;  the  winds  fair  as  the  first  dream  of  love. 
But  about  mid-ocean  we  encountered  a  terrific  swell  from 
the  north.  There  had  doubtless  been  a  great  storm  in  the 
icy  regions,  and  the  stubborn  heart  of  the  mighty  deep  was 
still  agitated.  Would  to  heaven  it  had  sung  to  quietude 
ere  we  came  along,  for  it  rendered  me  intolerably  ill,  and 
the  demon  and  I  battled  again  for  many  a  day. 

Braham,  the  excellent  English  singer,  and  Dodworth,  the 
admirable  cornet  a  piston  player,  gave  us  a  concert  one  night 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Sailors*  Home  on  Staten  Island.  After 
some  delightful  music,  the  Star  Spangled  Banner  was  sung, 
in  which  all  the  audience  joined,  making  a  most  charming 
finale  to  the  entertainment. 

On  the  ninth  day,  as  I  lay,  miserably  ill,  on  the  deck, 
the  officer  cried  out,  "  Land  !  land  !  "  Oh,  joyful  sound ! 
giving  life  and  hope.  None  of  Sontag's  sweetest  tones  could 
equal  the  exquisite  thrill  that  one  word  produced  upon  me. 
The  mountains  of  Ireland  were  soon  visible,  and  the  "  Fast- 
ness Rock  "  in  the  ocean.  This  contains  a  light-house,  which 
is  tenanted  by  one  man.  It  is  three  miles  from  the*  main- 
land, and  is  a  lonely  spot. 

The  next  day  we  were  in  sight  of  Wales,  and  soon  of 
Holyhead — a  high,  bold,  desolate-looking  rock,  with  a  white 
light-house  upon  it.  The  shore  was  barren  and  cheerless, 
without  a  single  tree,  until  we  entered  the  Mersey ;  then  the 
shores  were  green  and  lovely,  and  I  felt  we  were  indeed  in 
"  merrie  England." 


4  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

As  we  approached  Liverpool,  a  thick  mist  gathered 
around  us,  veiling  the  landscape.  Within  the  steamer  all 
was  confusion  and  preparation  for  landing.  On  all  sides 
were  the  inquiries — "  Can  I  take  my  baggage  ?  "  *'  Are  the 
officers  very  strict  in  their  search  ?  " 

It  was  quite  dark  when  we  descended  the  ladder  of  the 
Atlantic,  and  entered  the  little  steam-tug — a  frightful,  black, 
gopher-looking  vessel.  There  we  stood,  until  215  passen- 
gers came  down  the  narrow  way.  We  scarcely  had  standing 
room,  and  even  I  confessed  it  was  amazingly  unpleasant. 
But  I  had  resolved  not  to  permit  any  of  the  small  ills  of  life 
to  annoy  me ;  hence  I  only  laughed  at  them,  and  sprang  mer- 
rily ashore. 

At  last  I  was  in  England !  Even  the  most  unenthusias- 
tic  must  feel  a  wild  bounding  of  the  heart  when  they  first 
touch  the  shores  of  Mother-Land.  As  for  me,  joy,  radiant 
joy,  filled  my  soul,  and  I  could  have  thrown  myself  on  my 
knees  and  kissed  the  earth — the  home  of  my  ancestors — the 
glorious  land  which  holds  forth  its  hands  in  love  and  sympa- 
thy to  its  children,  far  over  the  vast  Atlantic. 

The  illuminated  clock  of  one  of  the  churches  marked  the 
hour  of  eleven,  as  we  drove  to  the  Adelphi,  first  stopping 
at  the  Custom- House,  where  the  trunks  were  opened  and 
closed,  (at  least  ours  were.)  A  southern  planter  was  not  so 
lucky.  He  had  "  seven  beautiful  plugs  "  of  tobacco  taken 
from  him,  as  he  refused  to  pay  seven  dollars  duty  upon 
them. 

At  the  hotel  the  waiter  called  out,  "  Fine  rooms  !  excel- 
lent rooms  !  "  When  I  entered  them  T  thought — "  I  will 
take  mine  ease  at  mine  inn ;  "  but  alas  for  this  hope  of  com- 
fort !  Never  did  we  see  more  miserable,  dingy,  dark  rooms. 
"  English  comfort " — the  boast  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  over 
the  whole  world — seemed  to  me  but  a  fiction,  if  this  were  an 


DRIVE   THROUGH    THE   CITY.  0 

earnest  of  it.  Visions  of  the  palace-like  St.  Nicholas  came 
to  us,  as  we  looked  upon  the  quaint,  old,  queer  furniture — 
the  narrow  beds  and  time-worn  carpets.  However,  we  were 
very  weary,  and  soon  sought  forgetfulness  in  sleep ;  and  in 
the  "  dream-land "  I  was  soon  with  those  dear  ones  in  my 
home  by  the  Mexican  Gulf 

Liverpool^  June  22d. — "  I  am  at  last  in  England  !  "  was 
my  first  exclamation,  as  I  sprang  from  my  narrow  bed,  and 
drew  aside  the  curtain.  It  was  a  bright  morning,  and  already 
the  street  was  thronged  with  people.  I  hurriedly  dressed, 
that  I  might  go  out  and  breathe  freely  the  English  air, 
though  somewhat  tainted  by  coal-smoke.  But  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  last  night  was  yet  with  me,  and  delightful  mem- 
ories filled  my  mind,  of  this  land  so  famed  in  "  song  and 
story." 

Liverpool  is  a  bustling,  busy  city,  of  near  400,000  inhab- 
itants. It  covers  a  large  space  of  ground,  and  its  streets  are 
as  wandering  and  winding  as  those  of  Boston. 

During  our  drive,  we  visited  many  of  the  public  buildings, 
which  are  really  splendid.  The  St.  George's  Hall  is  a  mag- 
nificent edifice  ;  likewise  the  Exchange,  Custom-House,  and 
Sailors'  Home.  We  saw  the  statue  of  Lord  Nelson,  and  that 
of  Huskisson.  But  the  miracles  of  Liverpool  are  the  docks. 
These  are  of  wondrous  extent — at  least  five  or  six  miles 
along  the  shores  of  the  Mersey.  The  tide  rises  from  twelve 
to  thirty  feet ;  hence  ships  are  compelled  to  be  placed  in  the 
docks,  or  else  to  lie  far  out  in  the  "  offing."  There  appeared 
to  be  vessels  from  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  indicated  by 
their  flags,  and  destined  to  all  ports,  from  the  sailing-boards 
hung  out  upon  them. 

The  hum  of  commerce,  and  the  eager  rushing  to  and  fro 
of  hundreds  of  laborers,  gave  token  that  Liverpool  is  indeed 
the  great  emporium  of  the  English  world. 


6  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

The  Princess  Park  is  filled  with  trees  and  flowering 
shrubs.  There  were  many  beautiful  azalias,  and  the  golden 
laburnum,  the  California  of  flowers,  and  the  broom,  and 
snowball. 

Around  Liverpool  are  numerous  elegant  country  seats. 
The  rich  people  fly  the  misery  and  toil  and  struggle  of  the 
city  life,  for  the  bright  green  fields  of  the  country. 

At  every  turn  we  met  policemen,  those  polite  "  guardians 
of  the  law."  We  could  but  think,  how  wicked  the  people 
must  be  to  require  such  a  surveillance  by  night  and  day. 
Save  in  the  Havanas,  I  had  never  seen  a  watchfulness  like 
this.  There  the  thickset  Spanish  soldier  is  encountered  in 
every  street. 

•  Our  delightful  evening  ended  by  a  long  drive  amid  the 
environs  of  Liverpool. 


CHAPTER  II. 

At  ten  o'clock  we  left  Liverpool,  and,  after  passing  through 
a  dark  tunnel,  emerged  into  a  beautiful  country.  It  was  like 
a  grand  mosaic,  or  like  one  of  those  exquisite  quilts  of  my- 
riad pieces,  made  by  the  dear  hands  of  my  aged  grand- 
mother. Each  field  was  encircled  by  a  well-cut  hedge, 
and  trees  planted  on  the  hill-tops.  The  narrow  winding 
roads  were  also  shaded  by  them,  in  rows  on  either  side,  form- 
ing a  sweet,  quiet  walk.  The  country  was  entirely  culti- 
vated, even  to  the  slip  of  ground  along  the  railway.  The 
fields  were  brightly  green,  intermingled  with  white,  red,  and 
yellow  flowers.  The  ground,  in  a  state  of  preparation  for 
planting,  seems  to  have  been  pulverized  by  some  machine  ;  it 
looks  as  smooth  as  brown  ochre. 

The  railway  does  not  pass  through  the  great  towns,  but 
only  near  them.  At  the  different  stations  are  refreshment- 
houses,  but  only  three  minutes  allowed  for  stopping. 

The  day  was  delightful.  The  sky  of  pale  blue,  with  a 
few  fleecy  clouds  to  shade  us  from  the  sun.  The  air  was 
pure,  fresh,  and  life-giving.  The  calm,  quiet  beauty  of  the 
scenery  realized  precisely  the  descriptions  of  rural  England, 
so  sweetly  and  truthfully  portrayed  by  Chaucer,  by  Spenser, 
and  by  Wordsworth. 


8  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

We  looked  upon  the  thatched  cottage,  half  covered  with 
rose-vines  in  full  blossom, — the  fields  of  new-cut  hay,  where 
the  women  and  children  were  tossing  it  into  great  high- 
wheeled  carts, — the  far-off  castle  with  turrets, — the  little 
lakes,  where  the  cows  calmly  stood  in  the  placid  waters, — the 
myriad  sheep  upon  the  hills, — the  stalwart  peasants  at  their 
daily  toil;  and  they  seemed  pictures  we  had  looked  upon  in 
some  other  period  of  existence,  all  were  so  familiar  to  our 
eyes. 

The  railway  carriages  are  entirely  comfortable,  each  con- 
taining six  persons.  Then  the  delightful  security  which  is 
felt  during  the  journey.  Within  sight  of  each  other,  stand 
men  with  flags,  which  are  unfurled  to  signify  danger  or  safety. 
If  it  be  the  red,  some  obstacle  exists ;  if  the  white,  nought 
impedes  the  onward  progress. 

From  Liverpool  to  London,  it  was  like  a  swift-unfolding 
panorama,  constantly  revealing  new  beauties  to  the  eye. 
Perfectly  was  I  repaid  for  all  the  discomforts  of  the  voyage 
by  this  day  of  new  and  joyous  existence.  By  the  increased 
speed  we  found  we  were  approaching  London,  and  soon 
reached  the  station.  There  was  no  bustle  or  confusion.  A 
cab  was  quietly  called,  and  we  drove  into  mighty  London. 

Words  cannot  even  give  a  shadow  of  the  emotions  which 
thrilled  me  as  I  passed  along.  All  the  romances,  all  the 
histories  I  had  ever  read,  crowded  upon  my  memory,  and  I 
felt  like  one  wandering  in  dreams  conjured  up  by  wild  ima- 
gination. 

After  driving  to  several  hotels,  we  came  to  Fenton's,  St. 
James's  street,  one  of  the  most  fashionable  hotels  of  London. 
We  have  a  charming  parlor  on  the  street,  with  a  balcony, 
where  I  am  now  seated,  writing,  or,  rather,  I  am  striving  to 
write,  for  the  animated  scene  calls  away  my  attention  every 
moment. 


THE    STREET-SWEEPER.  9 

It  is  just  seven  o'clock.  The  sun  is  high  in  the  heavens. 
Multitudes  of  carriages  are  dashing  by,  with  servants  in 
gorgeous  liveries,  with  knee-breeches,  velvet  coats,  and  pow- 
dered wigs.  The.  ladies,  en  grande  toilette,  are  reclining  in 
their  elegant  equipages,  which  are  all  of  the  barouche  form, 
thus  displaying  the  superb  dresses.  On  the  front  seat  is 
often  a  dainty  little  lap-dog,  quietly  gazing  out  upon  the 
two  liveried  footmen,  who  stand  behind  the  carriages,  hold- 
ing on  to  the  long  tassels. 

To-day  the  Queen  held  her  drawing-room ;  hence  the  unu- 
sual display  of  splendor  in  the  costumes  of  the  fair  occupants 
of  these  carriages. 

In  front  of  me,  at  the  crossing  of  the  street,  stands  an 
old  woman,  with  snow-white  hair ;  in  her  hands  she  has  an 
ancient-looking  broom,  with  which  she  "  sweeps  the  cross- 
ing," and  puts  forth  her  hand  for  charity.  No  one  gives  her 
any— yes !  one  person  has  dropped  a  copper  in  her  hand. 
There  seems  a  spell  about  some  objects  ;  for,  though  my  eyes 
are  enchanted  by  the  gay  and  gorgeous  scene,  they  irresisti- 
bly  wander  back  to  the  old  woman.  It  is  another  revelation 
of  London  life.  Wealth  and  luxury  dash  proudly  by,  while 
poverty  holds  out  its  hands  for  the  charity  which  does^  not 
come.  A  sad,  sad  feeling  stole  over  me,  and  involuntarily  I 
exclaimed,  "  Thank   God,  I  have  never  seen  this  in  my  own 

country  !  " 

Ni^ht  has  come  at  last.  It  is  not  darkness,  but  a  sott, 
gray  twilight.  I  must  lay  aside  my  pen.  My  eyes  are 
wearied  with  the  many  objects  which  have  passed  before 
them  this  long,  long  day  of  June. 

June  2m.— Vie  dispatched  all  our  letters  ere  we  slept 

last  nic^ht.     This  morning  brought  us  many  visitors  ;  among 

them,  one  valued  and  dear  friend,  who  had  known  me  in  the 

bright  days  of  my  life.     He  came  with  genial,  cordial  words, 

Vol.  I.— 1* 


10  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

to  welcome  me  to  his  Dative  land.  How  like  sweet  sunlight 
it  was  to  be  greeted  thus  ! 

All  to  whom  we  sent  letters  came  at  once.  They  did 
not  meet  us,  as  though  we  were  strangers.  •  They  received  us 
like  friends,  and  they  invited  us  to  their  homes  with  a  warm, 
frank  manner,  enchanting  in  its  perfect  sincerity. 

A  beautiful  and  noble  lady,  to  whom  these  kind  friends 
had  mentioned  my  arrival,  sent  me  an  invitation  to  a  "  Mati- 
nee dansante."  At  three  o'clock  I  made  a  carriage  toilette, 
and  drove  with  them  to  her  mansion,  near  one  of  the  splen- 
did parks  of  London.  The  house  was  magnificent.  Every 
window  was  filled  with  rare  plants  and  flowers.  Four  rooms 
were  opened  for  dancing,  and  in  the  fifth  there  was  a  concert, 
where  Bosio  and  Gardoni  sang.  As  Bosio  made  her  first 
reputation  in  America,  she  was  to  me  particularly  inter- 
esting. She  is  a  slight,  delicate-looking  woman.  Her  voice 
is  of  pure  and  delightful  quality,  and  her  vocalization  perfect. 
Gardoni  is  exceedingly  handsome,  and  very  young.  His 
voice  is  soft  and  velvet-like.     It  falls  upon  the  ear 

"  As  gently  as  snow  upon  the  sea, 
And  sinks  into  the  heart  as  instantly." 

It  must  have  been  a  great  effort  to  sing  in  the  full  light 
of  day,  before  a  wondrously  cold  audience. 

The  orchestra  was  admirable,  and  the  polkas,  redowas, 
and  scliottisches,  were  danced  with  infinite  spirit,  though 
the  ladies  were  in  bonnets  and  mantillas.  The  style  of  danc- 
ing was  rather  different  from  ours.  It  was  not  so  affection- 
ate, neither  did  the  lady's  head  so  gently  recline  upon  her 
chevalier's  shoulder,  as  it  is  wont  to  do  in  the  New  World. 

There  were  many  people  of  the  aristocracy  present,  and  a 
distinguished  general  who  served  with  Wellington  at  Water- 
loo.    A  sum])tueus  breakfast  ended  the  festivities  of  ''  the 


RACIIEI..  11 

morning."  "We  drove  through  Hyde  Park,  and  reached 
Fenton's  just  in  time  for  the  French  play  at  St.  James's 
Theatre. 

June  2^th. — Last  night  we  were  at  the  St.  James's 
Theatre,  and  saw  Kachel.  How  wonderful  is  her  acting ! 
She  is  not  beautiful  in  form  or  face,  yet  the  grace — the 
swaying  motion  of  her  limbs,  is  as  naturally  elegant  as  the 
waving  of  the  palm  trees  of  Cuba.  She  does  not  appear  to 
make,  the  slightest  effort  in  acting.  The  tones  of  her  voice 
are  exquisitely  musical,  and  the  utterance  of  one  word 
seemed  the  revelation  of  the  whole  scene.  By  the  movement 
of  her  hand  she  impressed  me  as  much  as  though  she  had  de- 
claimed for  one  hour. 

The  St.  James's  is  an  exceedingly  small  theatre,  dark 
and  disagreeable.  There  is  no  dress-circle,  as  two  ranges 
are  occupied  by  the  private  boxes  of  the  nobility.  Only  in 
the  upper  tiers  and  in  the  parquette  can  seats  be  obtained 
by  strangers.  The  boxes  were  all  hung  with  dark  crimson, 
and  the  gas-lights  were  very  dim.  There  was  no  orchestra. 
Rachel  does  not  permit  the  distraction  of  music  during  her 
performances.  The  audience  were  quite  undemonstrative. 
It  was  only  at  the  end  of  the  tragedy,  they,  gave  evidence  of 
their  appreciation. 

Since  our  first  coming  to  England  the  weather  has  been 
delightful,  but  to-day  the  rain  falls  rapidly.  In  spite  of  this 
the  splendid  carriages  dash  by,  and  the  old  woman  still  sweeps 
the  crossing.  She  has  only  received  one  copper  during  the 
long  morning. 

June  2Qth. — We  have  just  returned  from  the  Hay- 
market,  where  we  saw  Buckstone's  Travestie  of  Albert 
Smith's  "  Ascent  of  Mont  Blanc."  It  is  a  most  mirth-ex- 
citing  piece,  and  is  styled,  "  The  Ascent  to  Mount  Par- 


12  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Mrs.  Fitzwilliams  as  "  Fortune  "  was  admirable.  After- 
wards came  a  bagatelle  from  the  pen  of  Howard  Paul,  the 
"  Spirit  Rappings,"  in  which  Mrs.  Fitzwilliams  played  the 
part  of  the  Yankee  girl,  "  Misery  Ann  Mawkins."  Her 
acting  was  very  funny  and  piquant.  How  well  Mrs.  Barney 
Williams  would  appear  in  this  character.  The  Haymarket 
is  neither  an  elegant  nor  handsome  theatre.  The  deep  red 
hangings  of  the  boxes  give  a  dismal  aspect  to  the  whole 
house. 

Sunday. — We  \'isited  this  morning  one  of  the  fashionable 
churches,  where  we  have  seen  the  nobility  at  their  devo- 
tions. I  remarked  a  duchess  kneeling  before  me.  Upon 
entering  she  was  attended  by  three  liveried  servants  ;  one 
carried  her  Prayer  Book,  another  a  cushion  upon  which  she 
knelt,  and  the  third  held  open  the  pew-door.  Nothing  strikes 
an  American  more  forcibly  upon  first  arriving  in  England, 
than  the  humility,  and  the  absolute  reverence  of  servants  for 
their  masters,  whom  they  evidently  regard  as  beings  almost 
of  worship.  The  church  was  a  handsome  edifice,  the  sermon 
excellent,  and  the  music  charming,  consisting  of  the  most 
delightful  melodies  of  the  opera,  adapted  to  the  chants  and 
hymns. 

London  far  surpasses  all  my  anticipations.  It  is  much 
more  beautiful,  more  neat,  and  more  quiet  than  I  had  pic- 
tured it.  The  parks  are  matchless  in  their  freshness  and  in 
their  extent.  AVhat  blessings  they  are  !  They  have  been 
filled  all  the  day  with  crowds  of  happy  children  rolling  on 
the  grass,  while  the  old  people  sat  calmly  under  the  shade  of 
the  trees,  watching  them.  Whole  families  were  there,  from 
the  aged  grandmother,  to  the  infant  of  a  few  weeks  of  life. 
Gorgeous  carriages  passed  by,  and  the  family  all  looked  upon 
them  with  a  smile  of  pleasure.  No  glance  of  envy  followed 
these  favored  ones  of  fortune.     The  lower  classes  seem  to 


WESTMINSTER    ABBEY.  13 

have  a  pride  in  their  aristocracy,  and  no  regretful  yearnings 
are  awakened  by  these  displays  of  magnificence. 

June  2 8/;^.— This  morning  we  wandered  for  hours  amid 
the  venerable  arches  of  Westminster  Abbey,  and  lingered 
reverentially  by  the  tombs  of  the  illustrious  dead.  A  flood 
of  emotions  poured  over  my  heart  no  words  of  any  living  lan- 
guage can  describe.  These  wondrous  men  of  mind  appeared 
to  hold  me  spell-bound  by  their  glorious  memories. 

The  architecture  of  the  abbey  is  magnificent.  The  vast 
edifice  is  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and  was  built,  it  is  supposed, 
by  Sebat,  King  of  the  East  Saxons,  in  616,  enlarged  by 
Edward  the  Confessor,  and  almost  rebuilt  by  Henry  III., 
and  his  son,  Edward  I.  Nearly  all  the  kings  and  queens 
are  buried  here,  and  also  in  this  grand  old  abbey  have  they 
all  been  crowned.  . 

At  mid-day  the  sunlight,  streaming  through  the  magni- 
ficent stained-glass  windows,  was  beautiful.  The  solemn 
aisles  and  the  carved  ceilings  were  glowing  with  the  radiance 
of  the  rainbow-like  light. 

I  soon  sought  the  "  Poet's  Corner,"  in  the  south  transept. 
It  contains  th°e  tombs  of  the  greatest  poets,  or  their  menu- 
ments.  As  may  be  well  imagined,  Shakspeare's  monument 
first  claimed  my  attention.  His  ashes  have  never  been  dis- 
turbed from  their  resting-place  in  the  quiet  old  church, 
by  the  "  gently  flowing  Avon."  When  Pope  was  asked  to 
write  an  epitaph,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  cannot  praise  Shaks- 
peare,  take  his  own  words."  Thus,  his  own  fingers  penned 
his  epitaph : 

"  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherits  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision, 
Leave  not  a  wreck  behind." 


14  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVKL. 

Until  the  "  great  globe''  dissolves,  the  fame  and  name  of 
Shakspeare  will  thrill  every  human  heart  in  which  flows  one 
drop  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood. 

With  mute  reverence  I  stood  before  his  monument,  and 
no  longer  wondered  at  the  adoration  of  the  Ivomi^h  Church 
for  the  tombs  of  their  saints.  This  great  poet  of  nature — this 
great  magician  of  language,  had  been  to  me  almost  as  a  house- 
hold divinity.  For  some  time  I  thought  but  of  him.  His 
genius  still  seemed  to  sway  the  pulses  of  my  soul,  and  it  was 
an  effort  to  turn  my  thoughts  to  other  objects.  Near  his 
monument  is  one  of  Jonson.     His  epitaph  is  by  Shakspeare — 

"  0  rare  Ben  Jonson  !  " 

He  was  Shakspeare's  fast  friend — his  companion  in  scenes 
of  merriment. 

Jonson's  lines  upon  Shakspeare  are  admirably  true  : 

"  Thou  art  a  monument,  without  a  tomb ; 
And  art  alive  still,  while  thy  book  doth  live, 
And  we  have  wits  to  read,  and  praise  to  give." 

The  tomb  of  Milton  is  near  by  the  monument  of  Chaucer. 
Then  comes  a  tablet  to  Butler,  the  author  of  "  Hudibras.'' 
He  has  a  place  among  kings,  though  left  in  life  to  misery 
and  want.  It  was  wise  in  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London  to 
place  upon  the  stone  this  inscription,  as  his  reason  for  so 
doing : 

"  That  he,  who  was  destitute  of  all  things  when  alive,  might  not 
want  a  monument  when  dead." 

Near  the  tablet  to  Butler  is  a  beautiful  tomb  to  Edmund 
Spenser,  author  of  the  "  Faerie  Queene,"  and  not  far  oft'  is  one 
to  the  memory  of  John  Gay  ;  the  epitaph  written  by  himself : 

"  Life  is  a  jest,  and  all  things  show  it, — 
I  thought  80  once,  and  now  I  know  it." 


TOMBS    OF    GAY,  THOMSON,  AND    OTHERS.  15 

1  passed  on  to  the  tomb  of  Thomson,  author  of  "  The 
Seasons,"  to  that  of  Gray,  of  Goldsmith,  of  Addison,  of 
Sheridan,  the  noble  orator  and  sparkling  wit,  who  entranced 
a  whole  nation  by  his  genius,  while  he  captivated  their  hearts 
by  his  nobleness  of  character.  Alas  !  how  sad  was  his 
end  ! 

The  monument  to  Handel  is  fine,  also  that  to  the  "  mem- 
ory of  David  Garrick,"  and  there  is  a  splendid  one  to  Sir 
Isaac  Newton. 

Then  came  the  monuments  to  the  great  statesmen, 
William  Pitt,  Fox,  Grattan,  Canning,  and  the  Earl  of 
Chatham.  Long  did  I  linger  by  that  tomh,  recalling  his 
words  uttered  in  the  House  of  Lords,  with  all  the  impas- 
sioned eloquence  of  truth,  and  the  inspiration  of  prophecy : 
"  You  cannot  conquer  America."  Is  there  an  American 
heart  that  does  not  quiver  with  feeling,  when  the  re- 
membrance of  these  words  comes  to  it — when  standing 
by  the  tomb  of  this  great  man,  who  so  nobly  sympathized 
with  our  people  in  their  struggle  for  independence  ?  And 
near  at  hand  is  the  monument  to  John  Andre.  It  was 
erected  by  George  III.  The  inscription  tells  the  story  of 
his  mournful  fate.  In  one  hand  is  the  letter  to  Washing- 
ton, asking  to  be  shot,  in  place  of  being  hanged. 

In  the  south  aisle  is  the  chapel  of  Henry  VIII.  The 
knights  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  and  those  of  Bath,  were 
installed  in  this  chapel.  Above  their  seats  are  hanging 
their  swords  and  shields,  and  their  faded  banners  droop  over 
them.  The  coronation  chairs  are  also  here.  In  one  of 
them*  is  fastened  the  famous  "  xS'i^owe  of  Scon e,''^  on  which 
all  the  Scottish  kings  were  crowned.  Edward  I.  possessed 
himself  of  it,  as  a  token  of  his  conquest  of  Scotland.  It 
is  a  red  stone  about  two  feet  long. 

The  tomb  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  has  her  sculptured 


16  80UVENIKS    OF    TRAVEL. 

eflBgy  upon  it  Her  son  (James  I.)  had  her  body  brought 
here.  The  face  is  said  to  be  very  like  hers.  It  has  a  deeply 
sad  exprei^sion. 

Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  sister  Mary  lie  near  each  other 

The  chapel  of  Edward  the  Confessor  is  dark  and  gloomy. 
There  are  sculptures  in  las-relief,  representing  the  events  of 
his  life. 

There  is  a  monument  to  General  Wolfe,  and  one  to  Ad- 
miral Vernon ;  a  statue  uuinscribed,  which  is  intended  for 
John  Philip  Kemble  ;  and  a  monument  to  old  Parr,  who  lived 
until  he  was  152  years  old.  Ten  sovereigns  lived  and  died 
duriunj  his  lifetime, 

Immeuse  space  is  awarded  to  naval  and  military  heroes. 
The  poets  have  only  a  corner,  and  the  great  statesmen  but 
little  more  of  room.  I  saw  many  specimens  of  modern 
sculpture,  which  I  greatly  admired,  by  Westmacott,  by 
Chantrey,  and  by  Flaxman.  The  tombs  of  the  kings  and 
queens  of  the  "  olden  time  "  have  a  rude  and  lofty  grandeur, 
exceedingly  impressive. 

The  afternoon  service  had  already  commenced,  while  we 
lingered  amid  the  dim  aisles.  The  swelling  of  the  organ 
through  them  was  solemnly  grand. 

From  the  abbey  we  passed  over  the  street  to  the 
"  Palace  of  Westminster,"  as  the  Queen  has  commanded  it 
to  be  called.  It  is  a  most  magnificent  edifice,  with  a  splen- 
did facade  fronting  the  Thames,  nine  hundred  feet  long.  It 
is  panelled,  decorated  with  statues  and  the  shields  and  arms 
of  the  sovereigns  from  the  Conquest  until  now.  In  1834  the 
old  palace  was  burnt,  and  this  has  arisen  in  its  place,  but  is 
not  yet  complete.  The  Victoria  Tower y  now  building,  (to  be 
in  height  'JoO  feet,)  will  be  a  worthy  monument  to  the 
adored  Queen. 

"  Westminster  Hall  "  is  said  to  be  the  largest  room   in 


LORD   CAMPBELL.  IT 

the  world,  unsupported  by  pillars.  It  escaped  the  conflagra- 
tion, and  is  now  a  portion  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  It 
was  here  the  kings  held  their  banquets  after  their  corona- 
tions. Here,  many  of  the  great  trials  took  place  ;  and 
here,  Charles  I.  was  condemned  to  die.  In  driving  down 
to  the  abbey,  we  passed  Whitehall  Palace,  where  he  wa? 
executed. 

As  we  were  engaged  to  dine  with  our  charming  friend. 
Mrs.  S.,  we  only  had  time  to  look  at  the  old  hall,  where  six 
hundred  years  ago  such  fearful  scenes  were  enacted,  and  to 
enter  one  of  the  courts  of  law,  where.  Lord'  Campbell  was 
speaking.  He  is  a  fine,  noble-looking  man,  with  an  impres- 
sive manner,  and  clear  tone  of  voice.  He  is  deemed  one  of 
the  most  excellent  jurists  in  the  three  kingdoms,  and  likewise 
a  statesman.  I  was  deeply  interested  in  him,  for  I  was  told 
Lc  had  been  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune. 


CHAPTEE    III. 

We  passed  a  few  hours  to-day  (June  29th)  in  the  British  Mu- 
seum. It  is  of  immense  size,  decorated  with  Ionic  columns. 
The  collection  of  antiquities  is  unrivalled  in  the  world. 

What  immortal  grace  of  art  did  the  sculptures  of  old 
possess !  Here,  after  the  passing  away  of  thousands  of 
years,  despite  the  "  sure  defacing  touch  of  time,"  tbeir  crea- 
tions excite  admiration  and  wonder.  The  "  Elgin  Marbles  " 
and  the  Frieze  of  the  Parthenon  are  wonderful,  not  only  in 
their  preservation,  but  in  their  beauty.  There  is  something 
so  grand  and  powerful  in  the  conception — so  noble  and 
startling  in  many  of  the  figures — that  I  stood  like  one  en- 
tranced before  them. 

The  assemblage  of  Etruscan  vases,  from  the  tombs  of  the 
ancient  people  of  Italy,  is  very  curious. 

Several  rooms  are  allotted  to  the  monuments  of  Nineveh, 
disentombed  by  the  indomitable  Layard.  They  consist  of 
tablets  from  the  walls  of  the  palaces,  the  winged  bulls,  and 
lions,  and  two  gigantic  forms  in  human  shape — of  such  won- 
drous size  it  seems  impossible  they  were  chiselled  by  the 
hands  of  man. 

The  Egyptian  antiquities  are  many.  There  are  col- 
umns, tablets,  statues,  and  sarcophagi,  and  quantities  of 
mummies. 

The  Portland  Vase  is  beautiful.  It  was  said  to  have  beeh 
discovered  in  the  tomb  of  Alexander  Severus,  who  died  in 
235. 


IIOK-nCULTUKAL    EXPOSITION. 


19 


Wo  passed  through  rooms  filled  with  specimens  of  min- 
eralogy and  geology,  of  zoology,  of  bronzes,  and  of  medals. 

The  library  of  printed  books  contains  400,000  volumes. 
The  National  Gallery  has  a  fine  collection  of  pictures. 
Among  the  manuscripts  I  saw  the  hand-writing  of  Sliak- 
speare,  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  Milton,  John  Knox,  Spen- 
ser  Chaucer,  Dry  den,  and  many  more  names  made  immortal 

by  history. 

From  these  wonders  of  past  generations  we  drove  to 
Madame  Tussaud's.  Her  collection  of  wax  figures  is  really 
one  of  the  curiosities  of  London.  They  are  so  entirely  life- 
like it  requires  the  test  of  touch  to  distinguish  the  false 
from  the  real.  In  the  »  Chamber  of  Horrors  "  is  the  infer- 
nal machine  of  Fieschi,  and  the  figures  of  all  the  most  fa- 
mous murderers. 

In  one  apartment  are  seen  many  of  the  relics  of  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte.  The  figures  of  the  Queen,  Prince  Albert, 
and  the  royal  children,  are  exceedingly  good.  The  rooms 
are  large,  panelled  with  plate  glass,  and  decorated  with  dra- 
peries and  gildings  in  the  style  of  Louis  XIV.  Nearly 
all  the  celebrated  characters  of  the  last  two  centuries  are 
here  represented. 

The  "  Horticultural  Exposition,"  in  Kegent's  Park,  next 
engaged  our  attention.  The  drive  to  it  was  delightful.  Al- 
though in  the  midst  of  a  great  city,  we  were  entirely  removed 
from  its  tumult.  As  far  as  the  eye  wandered  it  only  rested 
upon  trees  and  flowers.  As  we  approached  the  gardens  it 
was  a  scene  of  rare  beauty.  There  were  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  people,  with  gala  dresses  and  gala  faces, 
walking  through  the  park.  Bands  of  musicians  were  playing 
most  exquisite  gems  of  opera  music.  Flags  were  gaily  float- 
ing on  the  "  summer  wind."  Gallant  officers,  and  manly- 
looking  soldiers,  in  their  conspicuous  uniforms,  were  sprinkled 


20  SOUYENTES    OF   TRAVEL. 

amid  the  black  coats  and  white  neck-ties  of  the  civilians, 
while  multitudes  of  healthful  women,  blooming  girls,  and 
beautiful  children,  were  seen  on  every  side. 

Then  we  entered  the  tent  containing  the  fruits.  There 
we  saw  grapes  of  wonderful  size,  mammoth  pine-apples,  giant 
peaches,  s^ndi  pigmy  figs  and  melons. 

The  roses  numbered  many  hundred  varieties.  The  green- 
house of  the  garden  was  almost  the  size  of  the  New  York 
Crystal  Palace.  In  it  were  palm  and  cocoanut  trees,  and 
many  bright-hued  tropical  plants  and  flowers. 

At  seven  we  drove  to  Blackheath  to  dine  with  Mrs. 
Crosland,  (Camilla  Toulman,  the  delightful  authoress.)  It 
was  nine  miles  from  the  West  End  to  Blackheath.  En 
route  we  passed  the  Lunatic  Asylum,  known  as  "  Bedlam." 
It  was  a  bright  evening,  and  many  of  the  patients  were 
walking  in  the  grounds  or  seated  on  benches,  talking  to 
their  friends. 

Mrs.  Crosland  is  one  of  the  most  lovely,  gifted,  and 
genial  women  I  have  ever  met.  How  radiant  and  joy-giving 
was  her  look  of  welcome.  It  needed  no  words  from  her 
sweet  lips  to  say  she  greeted  us  as  friends. 

The  guests  had  all  assembled  ere  we  arrived.  Among 
them  was  Mr.  Bennoch  and  his  charming  wife.  Mr.  B. 
is  a  poet,  though  he  is  a  merchant.  He  is  a  man  of  pro- 
gress ;  warm-hearted,  liberal,  frank,  and  cordial ;  a  patron 
of  the  arts,  and  a  friend  to  the  stranger.  Then  there  was 
Grace  Greenwood,  our  American  authoress,  a  graceful  wo- 
man, bright  and  enchanting  in  conversation. 

Delightfully  passed  the  hours  until  near  one  o'clock,  when 
we  entered  our  carriage  and  drove  homeward. 

June  ^Qih. — We  have  taken  a  long  drive  to-day  to  see 
the  streets  of  London.  Regent  street  is  very  wide  and  well 
paved.     There  are  splendid  shops  on  either  side,  where  mag- 


8TKEETS   OF   LONDON.  21 

nificent  goods  are  sold  for  most  magnificent  prices.  Piccadil- 
ly is  a  fine  and  fashionable  street.  Belgrave  street  contains 
Belgravia,  where  stand  many  of  the  mansions  of  the 
nobility. 

The  Strand  is  the  most  thronged  portion  of  the  city. 
It  passes  ftom  Charing  Cross :  this  street  is  thus  named 
from  the  cross  raised  there  by  Edward  I.  He  was  taking  the 
remains  of  his  queen  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  rested  at 
the  "  little  hamlet  of  Charing  "  for  a  time,  hence  its  name. 
The  statue  of  Charles  I.  is  there.  Nelson's  column  is  of 
Portland  stone.     It  is  in  Trafalgar  Square. 

Pall  Mall  is  a  handsome  street,  extending  from  St. 
James  to  Haymarket.  It  is  thus  named  from  a  game  played 
in  England  during  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  St.  James  street 
extends  from  the  palace  of  St.  James  to  Albemarle  street. 
It  is  wide  and  handsome,  and  a  fashionable  drive.  Sheri- 
dan says : — 

"  The  Campus  Martius  of  St.  James's  street, 
Where  the  beaux's  cavalry  pace  to  and  fro 
Before  they  take  the  field  in  Rotten  Row." 

Fleei  street  is  an  extension  of  the  Strand ;  Temple  Bar  is 
over  this  street.  This  is  a  quaint  old  wall,  with  gates  which 
appear  useless.  On  state  occasions  the  Queen  cannot  pass 
through  without  asking  permission.  Then  the  gates  are 
fastened,  and  the  officer  knocks  upon  them,  whereupon  the 
Lord  Mayor  asks,  "  Who  is  there  ?  "  The  answer  comes, 
"  The  Queen;"  then  they  fly  open,  and  the  sovereign  enters 
the  city  amid  many  protestations  of  love  from  her  loyal  sub- 
jects. 

There  are  multitudes  of  open  squares  in  London,  which 
add  greatly  to  the  comfort  of  its  inhabitants.  These  are  not 
large,  but  they  are  lovely,  with  their  tall  trees  and  flowers. 


2515  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

We  have  just  "  taken  lodgings "  in  Portman  street, 
Portman  Square.  The  house  is  delightful.  We  have  all 
the  advantages  of  a  private  house,  and  none  of  the  bustle 
of  the  hotel.  Our  table  is  quietly  and  nicely  served  as 
though  we  were  at  home. 

After  driving  for  hours  through  the  thronged  portions 
of  the  city,  and  the  aristocratic  streets  of  the  AVest  End, 
we  came  to  Hyde  Park,  and  entered  it  by  the  archway. 

The  park  takes  its  name  from  "  Hyde,"  the  property 
once  of  the  Monks  of  Westminster.  Near  the  grand  entrance 
is  Apsley  House,  the  residence  of  the  "  Iron  Duke."  In 
front  of  the  mansion  stands  the  monument  in  memory  of 
his  glorious  achievements.  The  western  windows  are  cov- 
ered over  with  plates  of  iron.  During  the  agitation  of  the 
lleform  Bill  the  mob  assembled  before  the  house  and  broke 
in  the  windows.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  had  the  wooden 
shutters  replaced  by  sheets  of  iron,  which  he  would  never 
have  removed  He  was  the  Prime  Minister  then,  but  after 
that  day's  outrage  gave  up  his  power  into  the  hands  of  the 
Queen. 

Just  within  the  park  is  a  statue  of  Achilles,  cast  by 
Sir  R.  Westmacott  from  the  cannon  taken  in  Spain  and  at 
Waterloo.  It  was  paid  for  by  a  subscription  among  the 
ladies,  and  inscribed  "  to  Arthur,  Duke  of  Wellington,  and 
his  brave  companions  in  arms,  by  the  women  of  England." 

The  park  contains  four  hundred  acres,  and  has  many 
noble  trees,  and  grass  as  fresh  and  green  as  the  famous 
"  Blue  Grass "  of  Ashland,  near  Lexington,  Kentucky. 
There  are  roads  through  it  which  are  thronged  at  the  fashion- 
able hours  with  gorgeous  equipages  and  horsemen. 

Kotten  Row  (from  the  French  "  Route  du  Roi ")  is  re- 
served for  those  on  horseback.    The  Queen's  carriage  is  alone 


EKGLTSH    HORSEWOMEN.  23 

permitted  in  this  exclusive  place.  From  two  o'clock  until 
six  it  is  filled  with  fair  equestriennes. 

We  left  our  carriage  and  walked  along  Rotten  Row. 
What  a  brilliant  scene  it  was  !  There  were  multitudes  of 
people  walking  upon  the  smooth  cut  grass,  as  soft  and  yield- 
ing: as  velvet,  and  hundreds  and  hundreds  riding. 

The  English  women  look  admirably  well  on  horseback. 
There  is  a  style  and  grace  about  them  peculiarly  adapted  to 
this  exercise.  Their  round  hats  and  close-fitting  amazones 
are  exceedingly  becoming.  Many  were  attended  by  their 
grooms  only,  while  others  were  riding  side  by  side  with  some 
gallant  cavalier.  Some  were  dashing  along  in  a  rapid  gallop, 
and  others  sauntering  quietly  and  pleasantly  in  earnest  talk. 

In  the  park  is  the  Serpentine  River.  There  were  many 
boats  upon  it,  skimming  over  the  waters  like  so  many  swal- 
lows. On  the  bank  of  the  little  river  is  a  house  built  by  a 
society,  where  persons  are  stationed  constantly,  to  save  the 
lives  of  those  who  may  accidentally  fall  in,  or  purposely 
tumble,  or  plunge  therein  to  rid  themselves  of  the  burden  of 
life  by  this  mode  of  suicide.  Boats  and  drags  are  in  readi- 
ness, and  many  are  thus  rescued  from  death.  It  was  an 
evening  of  unusual  loveliness,  and  the  Queen,  Prince  Al- 
bert, and  their  royal  guests ;  the  King  and  Queen  of  Han- 
over, the  Crown  Prince  and  Princess  of  Prussia,  and  their 
handsome  young  son,  Prince  Frederick  William,  were 
driving  in  Rotten  Row,  amid  a  throng  of  fine  horsemen,  and 
brilliant  dashing  equestriennes. 

In  the  park  were  the  gorgeous  equipages  of  the  aristoc- 
racy, and  under  the  old  trees  groups  of  the  people,  with 
their  children  and  wives. 

Oh  !  what  a  blessiug  to  life  are  these  parks  of  London  ! 
They  are  indeed  the  "  lungs  "  of  the  great  city.  They  are 
indescribably  beautiful,  and  the  most  enjoyable  spots  of  earth. 


24  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

We  passed  this  evening  with  Miss  Fanny  Haworth  at 
Brompton.  She  is  a  sweet  poetess,  an  exceedingly  accom- 
plished woman,  and  an  excellent  artist.  In  her  pleasant 
circle  we  met  many  agreeable  persons.  Among  them 
Baron  Marichetti,  the  sculptor,  who  has  just  sent  over  to 
America  his  statue  of  Washington.  He  is  a  noble,  gallant- 
looking  man. 

We  accompanied  Col.  L.,  of  the  American  Legation,  to 
the  House  of  Lords,  to  hear  the  debates.  This  apartment, 
called  the  "  House  of  Peers,"  is  not  of  very  great  size. 
The  ceiling  is  quite  lofty;  the  frescoes  are  fine  and  the 
stained-glass  windows  superb.  The  light  comes  through 
them  beautifully,  casting  a  radiant  glow  upon  the  throne, 
which  is  gorgeously  gilded.  Near  it  are  the  chairs  for  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  for  Prince  Albert.  The  woolsack  is 
in  the  centre  of  the  house,  upon  which  sits  the  Lord  Chau- 
cellor.  A  richly  gilded  gallery  runs  around  three  sides  of 
the  room,  called  "  the  Gallery  of  the  Peeresses  of  England." 

The  Duke  of  Newcastle  was  speaking  when  we  entered. 
He  was  responded  to  by  several  noble  lords.  The  Duke 
of  Argyle  has  a  strikingly  interesting  and  intellectual  face 
He  has  long  red  hair,  which  he  dashes  from  off  his  high 
white  forehead  in  a  most  effective  manner,  while  he  speaks. 

I  saw  Lord  Aberdeen,  the  Prime  Minister,  Lord  Lans- 
downe,  and  many  other  celebrated  statesmen.  I  needed  no 
one  to  point  out  Lord  Brougham.  I  knew  him  at  once, 
from  the  not  flattering  pictures  of  Punch.  He  is  wonder- 
fully like  General  Taylor,  our  military  President. 

The  "  House  of  Peers  "  has  not  the  comfort  or  luxuries 
of  our  Senate  Chamber.  There  are  only  seats  covered  with 
morocco.  Tiie  clerks  are  seated  at  tables,  in  long  gowns 
and  wigs.  The  speakers  did  not  strike  me  as  either  elo- 
quent or  ready  in  debate.     There   was  no  tire    Df  a  Chat- 


HOUSE   OF   PEERS. 


25 


ham,  of  a  Burke,  or  a  Pitt.  However,  the  style  and  fashion 
of  oratory  are  perfectly  different  from  ours,  and  a  certain 
hesitation  of  speech  seems  to  a  stranger  like  an  affectation. 

At  eight  we  went  to  the  Italian  opera,  Covent  Garden. 
Mr.  Peabody  (our  merchant-prince)  sent  us  tickets  to  his 
box.  When  we  entered  it  there  were  bouquets  of  exquisite 
beauty  lying  upon  the  cushion  in  front,  a  mute  yet  fragrant 
welcome  to  us.  The  theatre  has  six  tiers  of  boxes.  All 
were  filled  with  the  beauty,  rank,  and  fashion  of  the  London 
world.  The  ladies  were  in  full  dress,  and  diamonds  were 
flashing  like  stars.     It  was  a  magnificent  spectacle. 

The  opera  was  "  I  Puritani."  Bosio  sang  delightfully, 
but  she  is  not  an  actress.  Then  came  Mario,  the  enchant- 
ing Mario  !  What  a  voice  !  It  goes  directly  to  the  heart, 
without  lingering  on  the  way  to  enchain  the  attention  by 
mere  graces  of  execution.  It  is  as  clear  as  the  tone  of  a 
glass  bell,  and  electrical  in  its  power.  Like  an  atmosphere 
it  surrounded  me,  while  I  scarcely  breathed,  so  much  I 
feared  to  lose  the  faintest  tone. 
Vol  I.— 2 


CHAPTEB    lY. 

When  we  reached  England  my  kind  and  noble  friend,  Lady 
Emmeline  Stuart  Wortley,  had  left  for  Dover.  But  her 
charming  family  have  been  affectionately  cordial  to  us.  It 
is  impossible  to  describe  how  excellent  and  attentive  they 
constantly  are.  They  have  all  called  upon  us,  entertained  us 
at  their  houses,  and  greeted  us  as  dear  friends.  Oh  !  how 
gentle  and  precious  to  the  stranger's  heart,  are  these  evi- 
dences of  appreciation ! 

The  Rutland  family  are  among  the  noblest  and  highest 
of  England.  They  are  cultivated,  elegant,  and  refined,  and 
more  hospitable  people  I  have  never  met.  We  have  just 
returned  from  a  delightful  party,  to  which  we  were  invited 
by  Lady  John  Manners,  the  lovely  wife  of  Lord  John, 
second  son  of  the  Duke  of  Rutland.  The  party  was  bril- 
liant and  magnificent,  and  we  were  enchanted  by  the  charm- 
ing manner  in  which  we  were  received.  A  number  of  per- 
sons were  presented  to  us,  who  welcomed  us  so  kindly  we 
felt  no  more  as  strangers. 

Lady  John  Manners  is  very  beautiful.  She  is  tall  and 
graceful ;  her  complexion  fair,  her  eyes  "  deeply,  darkly 
blue,"  and  her  hair  perfectly  black.     It  was  fastened  around 


LOKJ)    AND    LADY    JOHN    MANNERS.  27 

her  head  in  broad  Grecian  braids,  and  then  encircled  by  a 
coronet  of  diamonds.  Her  manner  is  refreshingly  natural 
and  genial.  As  she  stood  by  the  side  of  her  noble  husband, 
I  thought  of  the  remark  of  the  divine  who  married  them  : 
"  I  have  never  united  in  marriage  a  more  handsome  couple." 
They  were  indeed  fitly  mated,  in  youth,  in  intellect,  and  in 
high  position. 

Lord  John  Manners  has  a  noble,  high-bred  air.  He  is 
an  exceedingly  handsome  man,  resembling  very  much  the 
pictures  of  Lord  Byron,  to  whom  he  is  of  kindred.  His 
eyes  are  of  singular  beauty  and  eloquence  of  expression  ; 
his  dark  hair  clusters  in  close  curls  around  his  lofty  and 
poetic  brow.  He  is  said  to  be  the  original  of  ©'Israeli's 
"  Coningsby."  He  told  me  how  affectionately  his  sister 
(Lady  Emmeline)  cherished  the  remembrance  of  her  Ameri- 
can friends 

There  were  a  number  of  distinguished  persons  present, 
and  I  was  highly  gratified  to  meet  D'Israeli,  and  to  hear  his 
bright  and  sparkling  conversation.  He  has  a  strongly  marked 
Hebrew  face,  with  brilliant  eyes,  and  intensely  black  hair. 

The  Misses  Pyne  and  Mr.  Harrison  sang  several  con- 
certed pieces,  and  many  charming  ballads.  They  are  de- 
lightful vocalists,  and  will  be  warmly  appreciated  in  America, 
where  they  are  going  shortly. 

It  was  already  daylight,  when  we  reached  our  lodgings ; 
in  these  northern  climes,  the  nights  of  summer  are  not  of 
long  duration. 

It  is  only  one  week  since  we  reached  London,  and  each 
hour  has  brought  new  emotions  of  pleasure.  We  had  letters 
to  many  different  circles  of  society,  and  all  had  greeted  me 
with  a  kindness  and  warmth  of  cordiality  inexpressibly  gra- 
tifying. "  The  cold  in  clime  "  are  not  always  "  cold  in  heart," 
for  hospitality  more  prompt,  more  generous  and  considerate,  I 


28  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

have  never  known  even  in  the  "  Land  of  the  South."  The 
perfection  of  manner  is  found  among  the  higher  classes  of 
the  nobility.  Unpretentious  and  elegant,  they  deem  them- 
selves sufficiently  elevated  in  social  position  to  be  natural, 
and  hence  they  are  charming  and  genial. 

We  devoted  this  morning  to  visiting  at  the  house  of  Lady 
Wharncliffe.  We  met  Prince  Czarstorisky,  and  his  hand- 
some young  son.  The  prince  is  heir  to  the  throne  of  Poland, 
could  Poland  ever  again  be  numbered  among  the  nations  of 
earth.  He  strongly  reminded  me  of  Lafayette,  not  only  in 
the  expression  of  his  face,  but  in  his  benevolent  manner. 
When  he  knew  I  was  from  America,  he  asked  eagerly  about 
the  country,  and  remarked,  that  in  the  first  days  of  his  exile 
he  had  thought  of  going  there.  I  assured  him,  he  would 
have  met  an  earnest  welcome,  for  America  still  gratefully 
cherished  the  memory  of  Kosciusko,  who  came  to  her  aid 
in  the  dark  days  of  trial. 

Lord  Wharncliffe  is  the  great-grandson  of  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montague.     His  father  wrote  her  Memoirs. 

Lord  and  Lady  Wharncliffe,  and  the  Hon.  Miss  Wort- 
ley,  had  passed  some  months  in  America,  and  it  was  pleasant 
to  hear  them  speak  in  terms  of  such  true  appreciation  of  our 
country.  Every  where  we  have  heard  English  people  ex- 
press pride  and  gratification  at  the  onward  progress  of  the 
United  States. 

We  had  heard  much  ere  we  came,  of  the  prejudice  against 
us;  but  from  our  own  experience  it  is  a  fiction.  As  a 
mother  rejoices  in  the  renown  of  her  children,  so  does  Eng- 
land look  with  satisfaction  upon  America.  How  can  it  be 
otherwise  ?  English  blood  flows  in  our  veins- — their  language 
is  ours — their  religion  is  ours — their  poets  and  great  men 
are  also  our  treasures. 


THE    STARR    FAMILY.  29 

Meeting  again  with  our  dear  kind  friends,  Col.  and  Mrs. 
Starr,  has  been  a  great  happiness  to  me.  We  knew  each 
other  well,  long  years  ago  in  America ;  and  as  soon  as  wo 
reached  London,  they  came  to  greet  us  with  the  warmest  and 
most  heart-winning  welcome. 

Col.  Starr  is  now  established  in  this  city,  at  the  head  of 
an  influential  business-house,  and  has  gathered  around  him  a 
large  circle  of  charming  and  appreciative  friends.  He  is  a 
noble  man,  gifted,  refined,  and  intellectual.  As  an  author 
he  possesses  great  merit,  and  as  a  poet,  his  songs  are  sweetly 
expressive  of  the  gentle  and  tender  emotions  of  the  soul. 

Mrs.  Starr  is  an  elegant  woman,  belonging  to  one  of  the 
old  and  aristocratic  families  of  New  York.  Her  grandfather 
was  Sir  John  Throgmorton,  an  English  Governor  of  the 
province  of  New  York,  under  royal  rule. 

In  their  delightful  family  circle,  consisting  of  four  chil- 
dren, two  lovely  girls  and  two  noble  boys,  we  have  spent  a 
portion  of  every  day  since  our  arrival.  It  was  like  a  pleas- 
ant home  to  us,  in  a  foreign  land,  a  "  bit  of  America  "  in 
England ;  for,  although  Col.  S.  is  an  Englishman,  his  wife 
and  children  were  all  born  in  our  own  country. 

We  have  been  exceedingly  pleased  with  our  Minister, 
Mr.  Ingersoll ;  he  is  a  fine  specimen  of  a  frank,  honest, 
agreeable  and  intelligent  American  gentleman.  His  niece, 
Miss  Wilcocks,  a  handsome  and  interesting  woman,  dispenses 
the  hospitality  of  his  mansion  in  Portland  Place,  with  a 
graceful  cordiality,  very  captivating  to  her  country-people ; 
and  extremely  admired  by  the  distinguished  circles  of  society, 
who  often  assemble  there. 

Americans  are  always  warmly  and  graciously  received 
by  Mr.  Ingersoll,  and  every  favor  and  kindness  in  his  power 
bestowed  upon  them. 


30  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Col.  Lawrence  (son  of  the  former  Minister)  is  still  at- 
tached to  the  Legation.  He  came  often  to  visit  us,  and  we 
were  truly  grateful  to  him  for  many  courteous  attentions. 
He  is  a  great  favorite  in  the  aristocratic  circle  in  which  he 
moves. 


CIIAPTEK    V. 

Jtdy  2d. 

Ere  one  ray  of  the  splendor  of  that  brilliant  spectacle  of  the 
state  ball  has  faded  from  memory,  I  will  consecrate  to  the 
future  its  impressions  upon  me  ;  although  I  have  just  arisen 
from  a  few  hours'  sleep,  and  still  feel  quite  weary  from  the 
varied  pleasures  of  the  last  night. 

At  nine,  our  excellent  Minister  and  his  niece  with  the 
attaches  of  legation  called  for  me,  and  in  our  respective  car- 
riages we  drove  through  St.  James's  Park  to  Buckingham 
Palace.  Long  lines  of  soldiers  were  drawn  up  near  the 
entrance,  and  gentlemen  in  elegant  costumes  ushered  us 
into  the  cloak-room.  We  stood  some  time  looking  at  the 
distinguished  and  royal  personages  as  they  entered;  only 
those,  and  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  the  members  of  the 
Queen's  household,  passed  that  way.  After  a  brief  delay,  we 
ascended  the  great  staircase;  on  each  side  of  the  marble 
steps,  masses  of  flowers  were  placed,  so  arranged  they  formed 
immense  beds  of  gorgeous  hue. 

Entering  the  state  apartments,  we  tarried  in  the  yellow 
drawing-room,  until  ten  o'clock.  Then  the  guests  withdrew 
from  the  centre  of  the  room,  leaving  a  clear  space  like  an 
avenue  between  the  hedges  of  splendidly  dressed  women.  As 
we  thus  stood  in  eager  expectation,  the  plate-glass  doors  of  the 


32  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

saloon  were  thrown  open  ;  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  with  a 
golden  rod  in  his  hand,  walked  in  backwards,  the  band  struck 
up  '*  God  save  the  Queen,"  and  Victoria,  sovereign  over 
many  millions  of  people,  entered. 

By  her  side  was  the  Queen  of  Hanover,  then  the  Crown 
Princess  of  Prussia,  and  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester.  Next 
came  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  and  the  Princess  Mary  of  Cam- 
bridge ;  the  Duchess  of  Cambridge,  and  the  Princess  of 
Hoheulohe,  the  Duchess  of  Saxe-Coburg  Gotha,  and  the 
Duchess  of  Sutherland ;  then  all  the  maids  of  honor  and 
ladies  in  waiting.  After  these  came  Prince  Albert,  and  the 
King  of  Hanover;  the  Prince  Edward  of  Saxe-Weimar,  and 
the  Duke  of  Coburg  Gotha ;  the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg 
Strelitz,  and  the  Prince  of  Hohenlohe ;  the  Duke  of  Cam- 
bridge, noble  lords,  gentlemen  in  waiting,  foreign  ambassa- 
dors and  ministers. 

Queen  Victoria  moved  gracefully  along,  smiling  and 
bowing  in  a  kind,  cordial  manner,  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left.  Reaching  the  throne-room,  she  ascended  the  canopied 
"  haut  pas,"  where  she  seated  herself  surrounded  by  her  royal 
guests.  The  throne-room  was  a  spacious  and  noble  saloon, 
hung  with  crimson  satin,  the  lofty  ceiling  supported  by 
marble  columns,  and  richly  emblazoned  ;  while  around  it 
was  a  frieze,  (also  of  white  marble,)  representing  the  "  wars 
of  the  roses."  It  was  brightly  illuminated  by  the  light  which 
came  from  crystal  globes  and  golden  candelabra. 

Dazzling  was  the  scene  around  me,  resplendent  as  day 
with  flashing  diamonds  and  sparkling  gems.  There  were 
more  than  two  thousand  guests ;  every  lady  in  magnificent 
toilette,  and  every  gentleman  in  court-dress,  or  in  uniform. 
Soon  delightful  music  from  JuUicn's  band  (led  by  the  famous 
composer  himself)  filled  the  grand  apartment  with  its  ex- 
quisite   strains.     Then    the    Lord   Chamberlain    waved  his 


APl'EARANOE    OF    THE    QUEEN  33 

golden  wand,  the  crowd  drew  back,  and  a  large  quadrille  was 
formed,  which  consisted  of  her  Majesty  and  all  her  royal 
visitors. 

Queen  Victoria  is  much  handsomer  than  painters  have 
represented  her.  She  is  not  tall,  but  her  form  is  of  graceful 
symmetry ;  and  her  bust,  arms,  and  feet,  are  beautiful.  A 
bright  and  beaming  smile  lights  up  her  face.  Then  there  is 
such  an  air  of  honest,  earnest  goodness  about  her — a  genial 
manner,  so  lovely  and  lovable — "  my  heart  was  quickly  won," 
and  sincerely  could  I  have  exclaimed,  like  her  own  loyal 
subjects,  "  God  save  the  Queen."  Her  dress  was  of  white 
lace  embroidered  with  straw,  and  green  silk ;  her  hair 
parted  on  the  forehead,  and  simply  bound  around  her  head, 
which  was  encircled  with  a  wreath  of  poppies,  the  heart  of 
each  flower  formed  by  a  large  diamond.  Around  the  cor- 
sage was  a  band  of  diamonds  of  vast  size,  while  a  perfect 
river  of  light  seemed  to  flow  around  her  neck,  and  rest  upon 
her  bosom.  She  wore  the  blue  ribbon  (the  Order  of  the 
Garter),  with  a  clasp  of  radiant  gems. 

Prince  Albert  was  in  the  uniform  of  the  Rifles,  (since  the 
death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  he  has  been  appointed  colo- 
nel of  that  regiment.)  It  was  of  dark  green  cloth,  and  a 
short  jacket,  and  a  small  paletot  hanging  from  thje  shoulder. 
Upon  his  breast  were  many  glittering  Orders.  He  is  truly 
a  handsome  man ;  with  regular  features,  and  a  most  benign 
and  beautiful  expression  of  countenance.  His  manner  is 
elegant,  and  his  movements  in  the  dance  were  extremely 
graceful.  He  was  always  the  vis-d-vis  of  her  Majesty,  and 
in  passing  each  other  they  constantly  interchanged  words, 
and  pleasant,  happy  glances. 

The  Duke  of  Cambridge  is  a  tall,  gallant,  dashing-looking 
person.  He  was  dressed  in  a  splendid  uniform.  His  sister, 
Princess  Mary  of  Cambridge,  although  quite  young,  is  an 
Vol.  I.— 2* 


34  SOUVENIRS    OF    TKAVKI.. 

uncommonly  large  woman.  She  lias  an  amiable,  pleasant 
face.  The  Prince  of  Saxe-Coburg  Gotha  is  an  elder  brother 
of  Prince  Albert.  Then  there  was  Prince  Edward  of  Saxe- 
Weimar,  nephew  of  the  Dowager  Queen  Adelaide  and  her 
heir.  He  is  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar,  who 
went  many  years  ago  to  America,  and  wrote  a  clever  book 
about  it. 

The  Queen  of  Hanover  is  not  a  handsome  person,  but 
her  relative,  the  Crown  Princess  of  Prussia,  has  a  majes- 
tic and  commanding  air,  and  fine  figure.  Her  husband 
(brother  to  the  present  King  of  Prussia)  is  a  dignified  and 
stately  personage.  Their  son  Frederick  William,  it  is 
whispered  in  court  circles,  will  probably  marry,  in  a  few 
years,  the  Princess  Eoyal  of  England.  His  appearance  is 
extremely  prepossessing ;  he  is  a  fine-looking,  elegant,  and 
well-mannered  youth. 

Besides  these  there  were  several  other  princes  and  prin- 
cesses, all  Germans, — none,  however,  remarkable  for  personal 
attractions. 

The  King  of  Hanover  awakened  my  deepest  interest ; 
he  is  entirely  blind.  While  they  were  dancing  the  quadrille, 
he  sat  talking  to  his  aid-de-camp,  and  I  earnestly  watched 
his  countenance.  His  features  are  handsome,  and  his  poor 
eyes  large  and  blue.  They  have  quite  a  natural  expression, 
but,  alas  !  they  are  fixed  for  ever  upon  darkness.  It  was 
really  touching  to  remark  the  eagerness  with  which  the 
queeii  (his  wife)  would  run  to  him  the  moment  the  dance 
was  over,  and  seating  herself  by  his  side,  would  apparently 
describe  the  joyous  scene  to  him.  Smiles  would  steal  like 
sunbeams  over  his  face,  and  those  sightless  eyes  were  turned 
towards  her  with  loving  tenderness.  It  was  pleasant,  too,  to 
see  the  kind  attention  paid  him  by  Queen  Victoria.  She 
often  conversed  with  him   in  a  merry,  cheerful  way.      When 


THE   PRESENTATION. 


35 


another  quadrille  was  played,  and  they  all  left  him,  a  deep 
sadness  fell  like  a  veil  over  his  features. 

I  was  happy  to  meet  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  the  eldest 
brother  of  dear  Lady  Emmeline  Stuart  Wortley.  He  is  a 
noble  and  splendid  man,  graceful  and  charming  in  conversa- 
tion. Two  delightful  persons  were  then  presented  to  me, 
the  Count  and  Countess  Walewski.  The  Countess  is  a 
Florentine,  a  lovely  and  delicate  creature,  very  like  an 
American.  Her  complexion  is  fair,  and  a  profusion  of 
shining  brown  hair  was  twined  around  her  well-shaped  head 
in  a  most  becoming  manner.  The  Count  has  a  wonderful 
resemblance  to  the  portraits  of  Napoleon  the  Great.  He  is 
the  son  of  a  Polish  countess  of  Warsaw,  and  is  now  the 
French  Minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  James,  where  he  is  ex- 
tremely popular  as  a  refined  gentleman  and  excellent  di- 
plomatist. 

During  the  dancing  of  the  second  quadrille,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  was  introduced  to  me,  and,  after  some  pleasant 
words  were  exchanged,  he  remarked  :  "  As  you  are  the  only 
person  here,  not  present  at  the  last  drawing-room,  I  will  have 
the  pleasure,  Madame,  of  presenting  you  to  her  Majesty." 

Of  course  I  was  delighted  at  this  unexpected  and  unusual 
compliment,  as  presentations  at  a  state-ball  are  not  frequent. 
When  the  dance  was  over,  and  the  Queen  seated  again,  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  waved  his  wand  of  authority,  and  the  com- 
pany drew  back,  leaving  a  space  vacant  in  front  of  the 
throne ;  then  I  approached,  and  was  presented  to  her  Majesty, 
who  advanced  and  greeted  me  in  the  most  gracious  and  kind 
manner,  smiling  sweetly  as  I  courtsied  low  before  her,  and 
then  passed  on  to  the  group  of  distinguished  and  royal  per- 
sonages who  encircled  her  throne. 

That  presentation  was  a  bright  and  enchanting  incident 
to  me,  and  my  heart  bounded  with  glad  and  gratified  emo 


36  80UVENIKS    OF    I'KAVKL. 

tions,  as  I  gazed  upon  the  amiable  and  lovely  Queen.  She 
is  indeed  worthy  of  the  almost  adoring  affection  her  people 
have  for  her. 

The  Duchess  of  Sutherland  was  quite  near  me,  and  I 
could  well  imagine  she  had  most  justly  been  styled  the 
'•  Queen  of  Beauty."  Although  now  of  wonderful  "  embon- 
point," she  is  a  magnificent  woman.  Her  dress  was  exqui- 
site. It  was  a  silver  moire  antique,  with  a  tunique  (short 
dress)  of  brown  crape,  embroidered  thickly  with  sparkling 
gems.  The  front  of  the  corsage  resembled  a  parterre  of  pre- 
cious jewels,  while  multitudes  of  diamond  pins,  formed  like 
stars,  were  gleaming  in  her  fair  hair.  Her  two  daughters 
the  Duchess  of  Argyle  and  Lady  Constance  Grosvenor,  were 
with  her.  They  are  both  exceedingly  handsome,  and  were 
attired  in  superb  dresses,  with  a  profusion  of  diamonds. 

The  foreign  Ministers  and  attaches  were  all  in  their  nation- 
al costume ;  that  of  the  Persian  Minister  was  absolutely  blaz- 
ing with  jewels.  The  Turkish  ambassador  was  a  most  agreea- 
ble man.  With  the  Grreek,  Spanish,  and  Italian  Ministers  I 
had  a  very  gay  and  interesting  conversation.  They  were  all 
well-informed  and  intellectual  persons. 

Our  kind  friend  Mrs.  Marlay  (the  mother  of  Lady  John 
Manners)  presented  me  to  many  noble  lords  and  ladies, 
and  pointed  out  a  number  of  remarkable  people,  among  them 
Lady  Rockingham,  (I  believe  that  is  her  title  now,  she  was 
the  great  actress  Miss  O'Niel;)  she  still  has  traces  of  beauty, 
although  her  hair  is  snowy  white. 

The  Countess  of  Jersey,  and  her  daughter,  Lady  Clem- 
entina Villars,  quite  charmed  me  by  their  cordial  greeting. 
Lady  Clementina  was  certainly  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  brilliant  assemblage,  although  many  contended  that  the 
Duchess  of  Wellington  (a  very  lovely  woman)  surpassed  her 
in  personal  charms.     However,  Paris  himself  might  have 


iip:r  majesty  in  the  dance.  37 

been  puzzled  to  determine  to  which  he  should  award  the 
apple.  The  Countess  of  Jersey  is  called  the  "  queen  of  Lou- 
don fashion,"  and  she  wields  her  sceptre  with  an  admirable 
grace. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  I  recognized  at  a  glance,  from 
the  remarkable  nose  of  the  family,  which  strikes  the  behold- 
er so  forcibly  in  the  statue  of  the  Iron  Duke  in  Hyde 
Park. 

Although  trains  were  dispensed  with,  the  dresses  of  the 
ladies  were  rich,  splendid,  and  costly.  All  the  treasures  of 
the  mines  of  Golconda  appeared  to  have  been  yielded  up 
to  adorn  their  fair  bosoms,  and  to  glitter  as  coronets  upon 
their  brows.  Emeralds,  rubies,  pearls  "  from  Oman's  green 
waters,"  opals,  and  sapphires,  were  wrought  into  garlands 
and  bouquets,  imitating  flowers,  and  sparkling  as  though 
touched  by  the  morning  dew. 

The  supper  was  delicious ;  served  up  on  sevres  China, 
each  plate  so  beautiful  it  seemed  fit  for  a  place  in  a  painter's 
studio.  The  goblets  of  glass  were  exquisitely  cut,  and  the 
gold  spoons  and  forks  perfectly  superb.  One  end  of  the 
banquet  saloon  was  occupied  by  the  R-oyal  Buffet,  where 
gorgeous  treasures  of  golden  plate  were  glittering  in  amazing 
splendor.  There  was  every  imaginable  variety  of  viands 
and  rich  pates,  rare  tropical  fruits  from  the  Queen's  con- 
servatories, luscious  grapes,  peaches,  and  other  fruits  of 
the  temperate  zone ;  then,  wines  of  the  finest  vintage  from 
France,  Italy,  and  the  Rhine  valley. 

Her  Majesty  danced  every  quadrille  with  spirit  and  evi- 
dent delight.  She  tripped  gaily  along  with  the  joyous  glee 
of  a  girl,  and  the  simple,  unaffected  grace  of  a  child.  She 
looks  exceedingly  young.  No  one  would  suppose  her  to  be 
the  mother  of  eight  children.  Her  partners  in  the  dance 
were  usually  her  royal  visitors,  although  several  times  she 


38  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

selected  as  such  some  noblemen  of  high  rank.  The  Marquis 
of  Granby  was  one  of  the  persons  thus  honored. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  Queen  bade  adieu 
to  her  guests,  passing  between  two  living  walls,  which  lined 
the  picture-gallery.  As  in  entering,  she  kindly  bowed  and 
smiled,  as  the  great  door,  panelled  with  mirrors,  closed 
upon  her.  Her  sweet  and  genial  manner  was  really  charm- 
ing, and  a  low  murmur  of  praise  and  admiration  was  heard  on 
every  side.  Her  Majesty  is  truly  an  admirable  womanly 
woman,  or  else  she  could  not  possess  such  an  influence  over 
the  hearts  of  her  people.  She  is  at  once  their  pride,  their 
boast,  and  their  example  for  all  that  is  good  and  excellent  in 
the  various  relations  of  life,  as  a  wife,  mother,  and  sovereign. 

When  Queen  Victoria  retired,  one  of  the  noblemen  in 
waiting  upon  their  Majesties  most  kindly  became  my  guide 
around  the  sculpture  and  picture  galleries,  pointing  out  the 
fine  paintings  of  St.  Peter  Lely,  of  Reynolds,  Rembrandt,  and 
Wilkie.  He  then  conducted  me  to  the  landing  of  the  grand 
stairway,  where  we  stood  some  time  looking  down  upon  the 
scene  below.  There  were  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  ladies 
in  bright  crimson  and  blue  cloaks  waiting  for  their  carriages, 
while  near  the  door-way  was  a  "  band  of  yeomen  "  (the  guard 
of  honor)  in  their  quaint  costume  of  the  time  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  My  agreeable  chevalier  presented  me  to  many 
pleasant  persons,  and  I  was  delighted  with  the  cordial  way 
in  which  they  greeted  me.  One  gallant  old  general,  who  had 
served  long,  and  won  many  battles  in  India,  pleased  me 
especially.  Although  an  aged  man,  he  had  all  the  enthusi- 
asm of  a  young  soldier.  He  spoke  with  warm  admiration  of 
our  generals,  Taylor  and  Scott,  and  of  their  glorious  cam- 
paigns in  Mexico.  After  talking  awhile  he  invited  me  to  go 
down  to  visit  him  at  his  country  place,  and  we  parted  very 
earnest  friends. 


ETIQUETTE    ON    LEAVING    THE    PALACE.  39 

"  How  noiseless  falls  the  foot  of  Time, 
That  only  treads  on  flowers." 

Never  did  I  realize  so  absolutely  the  truth  of  Shenstone's 
words,  as  when  our  courteous  friends,  Mr.  Ingersoll  and  Col. 
Lawrence,  came  to  seek  me,  and  said  it  was  nearly  five  o'clock  ! 
Then  we  were  at  least  an  hour,  ready  cloaked  in  the  ante- 
chamber, ere  we  departed.  From  the  outer  gate  to  the  dooi* 
of  this  room,  the  names  of  princes,  foreign  ambassadors,  and 
ministers,  dukes,  lords,  and  ladies,  were  called  out  in  every 
variety  of  tone.  "  The  Duchess  of  Sutherland  is  coming,"  in 
a  weak  treble — ''  The  Duchess  of  Sutherland  is  coming,"  in 
a  deep  bass.  Thus  her  name  was  repeated  until  she  stepped 
into  her  coach,  and  another  was  drawn  up,  and  the  same  eti- 
quette gone  through  with.  Our  turn  came  at  last,  with 
the  oft-repeated  announcement  of  our  progress  to  the  out- 
ward world.  Leaving  the  glare  of  the  bright  chandeliers, 
we  sprang  into  our  carriage. 

It  was  a  bright,  delightful  morning.  Numerous  birds 
were  singing  amid  the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees,  rejoicing  in 
the  early  sunlight.  The  smoothly-cut  lawn  around  the  palace 
was  like  a  velvet  carpet,  and  the  flowers  fresh  from  their 
dewy  bath  of  the  past  night.  The  air  was  so  delicious  and 
invigorating,  that  we  drove  entirely  around  the  Park,  over 
Constitution  Hill,  and  along  Piccadilly,  to  my  lodgings  in 
Portman  Square.  I  ran  to  my  chamber.  Octavia  was  al- 
ready awake,  eager  to  hear  the  description  of  the  magnifi- 
cent ball ;  but  my  weariness  was  so  excessive,  I  fell  asleep, 
with  the  words  "  glorious,  enchanting,"  upon  my  lips. 

The  Queen's  Ball !  Like  a  beautiful  picture,  it  shall 
hang  within  the  brightest  chamber  of  memory ;  and  when 
troublous  cares  oppress  me,  I  will  summon  that  entrancing 
scene  to  the  "  mind's  eye,"  and  for  a  time  forget  them  all. 


CHAPTEE    VI. 

July  Zd. 

We  went  this  morning  (Sunday)  to  the  Church  of  the  Cru- 
saders, to  hear  divine  service.  This  is  a  very  ancient  edifice, 
near  six  hundred  years  old.  In  the  time  of  Cromwell,  the 
lofty  dome  and  frescoed  walls  were  covered  with  whitewash, 
to  preserve  them  from  the  fanatics,  it  is  supposed.  Century 
after  century  passed  away,  until,  by  accident,  a  portion  of 
the  coating  fell  off,  revealing  the  exquisite  fresco.  It  has 
since  been  restored  at  an  enormous  expense,  and  now  its  fine 
mediaeval  decorations  awaken  the  admiration  of  all  beholders. 

All  the  congregation  joined  in  the  responses,  thus  mak- 
ing the  service  exceedingly  solemn  and  impressive.  En- 
circled by  an  iron  railing  are  the  figures  in  bronze  of  the 
Knight  Templars  of  Jerusalem.  They  are  in  complete  ar- 
mor, with  shields,  helmets,  and  spears,  and  are  most  interest- 
ing as  works  of  art. 

We  dined  at  the  villa  of  a  distinguished  artist  at  Old 
Brompton.  The  grounds  were  surrounded  by  a  high  wall, 
and  are  a  portion  of  the  farm  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  When 
we  drove  through  the  large  gate,  we  found  ourselves  in  a 
small  forest  of  trees,  amid  which  stands  a  cottage-house,  and 
around  it  exquisite  flowers  and  clustering  vines.  In  a  little 
dell,  overshadowed  by  a  great  oak,  is   the  spring,  called  to 


TOWER    OF    LONDON.  41 

this  day  "  CromweU's  Spring."  We  were  delightfully  en- 
tertained, and  returned  home,  with  another  pleasant  remem- 
brance of  English  hospitality. 

July  4^/i.— This  is  the  Fourth  of  July  !  In  my  own 
loved  country,  what  a  roar  of  cannon  has  ushered  in  this 
glorious  day  of  our  independence  !  What  glowing  spee  'hes 
will  be  made— what  floods  of  patriotism  will  pour  over 
youthful  souls — what  quantities  of  powder  will  be  burnt — 
what  myriads  of  rockets  will  fill  the  air — and  to-morrow^ 
what  fearful  headaches  will  be  endured  ! 

After  breakfast  we  drove  to  the  Tower  of  London,  a 
great  fortress,  enclosed  by  a  wall  and  fosse.  It  takes  its 
name  from  the  immense  square  tower  in  the  centre,  which 
tradition  says  was  built  by  Julius  Caesar.  All  antiquarians 
say  it  was  erected  by  William  the  Conqueror. 

We  passed  in  by  the  Lion's  Gate,  and  were  conducted 
through  the  labyrinths  of  armories,  halls,  and  prisons,  by  an 
old  soldier  in  the  yeoman  dress  of  the  guard  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  He  proved  quite  a  character.  He  had  served  in 
the  British  army  at  New  Orleans,  had  been  in  Spain,  in  In- 
dia, and,  lastly,  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  where  a  ball  dis- 
abled him,  and  he  was  invalided.  He  inquired  with  great 
interest  about  New  Orleans,  and  said,  "  Of  course  a  grand 
monument  has  been  erected  to  General  Jackson  on  the  bat- 
tle-field." 

AVe  saw  all  the  armor  of  the  kings,  from  Edward  the 
First  to  James  the  Second.  There  must  have  been  giants 
in  those  days;  for  the  suit  of  Francis  Hastings  is  said  to 
weigh  one  hundred  pounds.  The  efl&gies  of  Leicester  and 
Essex  were  particularly  gorgeous.  Along  the  walls  are 
weapons  and  suits  of  ancient  armor,  and  muskets,  swords,  and 
pistols,  arranged  like  huge  sun-flowers.  There  were  also 
many  cuirasses  taken  at  Waterloo,  pierced  by  grape-shot. 


42  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Queen  Elizabeth's  Armory  is  filled  with  strange  weapons, 
battle-axes,  pikes,  halberds,  and  also  with  instruments  of 
torture.  My  soul  sickened  as  I  looked  upon  them,  and  I 
thanked  the  good  God  that  those  dark  days  had  vanished 
before  the  clear  light  of  civilization.  This  room  contains  an 
equestrian  statue  of  the  "  Virgin  Queen,"  in  the  very  cos- 
tume which  she  wore  when  she  visited  St.  PauFs,  to  return 
thanks  for  the  destruction  of  the  Spanish  Armada. 

Near  Elizabeth's  Armory  is  the  dungeon  of  Sir  Walter 
Kaleigh.  There  he  was  confined  twelve  years,  and  within 
those  dark  walls  he  wrote  his  "  History  of  the  World." 
Gallant  Raleigh !  I  crept  into  the  cell,  and  touched 
with  reverence  the  cold  stones  upon  which  that  noble  head 
had  so  often  rested.  And  then  our  guide  led  me  to  the  block 
upon  which  once  lay  the  beautiful  head  of  Anna  Boleyu. 
The  beheading  axe  is  rusty,  and  seems  even  now  to  wear  the 
stain  of  blood.  Under  the  pavement  of  the  church  of  St.  Pe- 
ter's were  buried  the  bodies  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  of  Essex,  of 
Northumberland,  of  AnnaBoleyn,  and  other  victims  of  tyranny. 

In  the  "  White  Tower,"  Hastings  was  impeached  by 
Richard  of  Gloucester.  In  the  "  Bloody  Tower,"  the  young 
princes  were  murdered.  In  the  "  Bowyer  Tower,"  Clarence 
was  drowned  in  the  Butt  of  Malmsey. 

Many  inscriptions  yet  remain  upon  the  walls,  traced  by 
the  hands  long  mouldering  in  the  dust.  Lady  Jane  Grey 
was  confined  in  the  "  Brick  Tower,"  and  they  pointed  out 
the  window  through  which  she  saw  her  husband  led  to  exe- 
cution, and  exclaimed,  "  This  day  we  meet  in  heaven." 

The  Regalia  of  England  is  superb,  and  of  immense  val- 
ue, (four  millions  of  pounds  sterling.)  There  are  several 
crowns.  The  most  magnificent  is  that  made  for  Victoria. 
It  is  covered  with  great  diamonds,  and  other  precious  gems. 
1  Ijcre   is  also  a  crown  for  the   Prince  of  Wales,  which  he 


tkaitor's  gate.  43 

will  wear  when  lie  accompanies  her  Majesty  to  Parliament. 
The  staff  of  St.  Edward  is  of  gold,  about  four  feet  long. 
It  is  surmounted  by  an  orb,  which  is  said  to  contain  a  piece 
of  the  true  cross.  There  are  bracelets  and  spurs,  diadems 
and  coronets,  swords  of  justice,  and  the  ampulla  for  the  holy 
oil,  with  which  the  Sovereign  was  anointed  at  the  Corona- 
tion ;  the  font  for  the  christening  of  the  royal  children,  and 
the  silver  wine-fountain  given  to  Charles  the  Second. 

We  saw  all  the  wonders  of  the  Tower.  A  grand,  old, 
gloomy  place  it  is.  My  mind  was  full  of  the  past,  and  con- 
stantly dwelt  upon  the  bitter  tears — the  sighs  of  anguish 
wrung  therein  from  the  "  strong  man  in  his  agony." 
Our  old  soldier  did  not  permit  any  thing  to  escape  us ; 
he  insisted  we  should  see  the  very  spot  where  the  rich  life- 
blood  of  Anna  Boleyn  flowed  over  the  square  stones  of  the 
court-yard  of  the  Tower;  and  lastly  he  made  us  follow  him 
to  the  '•  Traitor's  Gate."  This  opens  from  the  Thames,  and 
only  admitted  those  accused  of  high  treason,  though  many 
most  innocent  of  that  crime  entered  thereby. 

At  the  gate  we  bade  our  veteran  guide  farewell,  and 
walked  along  the  river-bank  through  "  Wapping,"  so  famed 
from  the  escapades  of  Charles  the  Second.  There,  for  the 
first  time,  we  saw  the  misery — the  filth — the  degradation  of 
the  great  city.  The  wretched  houses  seemed  overflowing 
with  inhabitants,  whose  pale  faces  filled  every  window,  and 
jhildren  blighted,  ragged,  and  starved  in  appearance,  were 
pitiable  to  look  upon. 

Passing  through  "  Wapping,"  we  came  to  the  docks  of 
uondon.  They  are  of  an  immense  size,  and  very  complete 
*nd  perfect  in  arrangement. 

The  entrance  to  the  Thames  Tunnel  is  beyond  the  docks. 
vV^e  descended  seventy-five  steps,  and  found  ourselves  in 
1    long,  low  arcliway,  well   lighted  and   neat.      Within  each 


44  SOUVENIRS  OF  tkavp:l. 

arch  there  were  shops  where  women  sell  little  articles,  with 
Thames  Tunnel  stamped  upon  them.  The  atmosphere  was 
damp,  and  a  strange,  earthy,  uncomfortable  feeling  oppressed 
us  as  we  passed  along.  Multitudes  of  people  were  walking 
through  the  archway.  There  were  eating-houses,  and  exhi- 
bitions of  dioramas  and  panoramas.  An  organ  played 
by  steam  filled  the  moist  air  with  music,  to  which  many 
couples  were  gravely  dancing  the  polka. 

All  this  life,  bustle,  and  confusion,  was  beneath  the 
largest  river  in  England.  The  women  told  us  they  suifered 
at  first  most  dreadfully  from  the  dampness,  but  after  a  time 
were  inured  to  it,  and  remained  there  from  nine  in  the  morn- 
ing till  nine  at  night.  Poor  creatures  !  they  looked  so  pale 
and  wan,  and  so  eagerly  besought  us  to  buy  the  little  trifles 
in  their  shops.  H(5w  glorious  was  the  sunlight  when  we 
emerged  from  the  tunnel!  It  is  a  stupendous  work;  but 
it  has  not  answered  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  designed. 
The  necessit}^  of  ascending  and  descending  the  seventy -five 
steps  is  a  barrier  to  its  utility.  Persons  prefer  going  over 
the  bridges,  or  crossing  in  the  boats,  to  this  subterranean 
passage,  though  it  be  well  lighted,  and  music  and  eating  and 
sight-seeing  are  the  accompaniments. 

It  was  intended  to  have  a  carriage-way  alongside  the 
foot-passage,  but  it  was  found  too  difiicult  of  accomplishment. 
It  now  stands,  a  monument  of  the  power  and  energy  of  hu- 
man skill  to  surmount  all  obstacles.  It  was  designed  by 
Sir  Isambard  Brunei,  and  the  cost  was  614,000  pounds 
sterling.     It  belongs  to  a  company. 

After  leaving  the  tunnel,  we  went  on  board  one  of  those 
little  steamers,  of  which  there  are  hundreds  upon  the  Thames, 
plying  up  and  down.  Whenever  they  approach  a  bridge, 
the  chimney  goes  down,  with  a  great  bow,  and  rises  again 
when    it    is    passed.     The  river    presented    a    busy   aspect. 


MADAME   CELESTE.  45 

"  Commerce  is  king,"  in  those  regions,  most  certainly.  We 
landed  and  passed  over  the  Huugerford  Suspension  Bridge, 
to  the  market  of  the  same  name.  There  we  saw  a  vast  dis- 
play offish,  and  baskets  of  snails.  The  arcades  give  it  quite 
the  look  of  an  Eastern  bazaar. 

We  dined  with  another  of  our  charming  friends,  and  then 
went  to  the  Adelphi,  where  Madame  Celeste  had  politely  in- 
vited us,  placing  her  private  box  at  our  disposal.  The  Adel- 
phi is  a  very  small  theatre,  but  the  appointments  and  acting 
are  excellent.  The  play  was  "  Genevieve,  or  the  Reign  of 
Terror,"  in  which  Madame  Celeste  has  a  most  interesting 
part.  She  was  charming  in  it.  The  earnestness,  the  feeling, 
the  lifelike  truth  of  her  acting,  were  surpassingly  good.  She 
is  still  as  young  and  handsome  as  when  in  my  early  days  she 
first  enchanted  me.  Mr.  Webster  is  an  admirable  actor. 
His  style  is  refined,  quiet,  and  elegant.  Paul  Bedford,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Keeley  were  very  funny  in  a  travestie  of  Norma, 
in  which  Bedford  took  the  part  of  the  Priestess,  with  a 
garland  of  vegetables  around  the  head,  and  Mrs.  AVoolgar, 
a  brilliant,  well  developed  woman,  the  role  of  PoUio.  She 
sang  the  music  capitally,  and  acted  the  part  in  the  most 
dashing,  sparkling  manner. 

July  bth. — This  has  been  a  charming  morning.  Miss 
Fanny  Haworth  kindly  accompanied  me  to  visit  Miss  West- 
macott,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Richard  Westmacott,  the  cele- 
brated sculptor,  many  of  whose  works  I  had  seen  in  the 
Westminster  Abbey.  She  was  a  delightful  person,  and  took 
us  to  her  father's  studio,  where  we  saw  many  fine  statues  and 
models.  She  showed  me  a  picture  found  in  one  of  the  ships 
of  the  Armada,  representing  the  Virgin.  There  was  also  a 
painting  in  water-colors  (said  to  be  the  largest  of  that  de- 
scription in  the  world).  It  represents  the  falling  of  the  Tow- 
ers of  Babylon.     Every  square  inch  is  a  perfect  study. 


46  SOFYENTRS    OF    TRAVKT,. 

In  the  studio  of  tlie  Baron  Maroclietti  we  spent  some 
hours.  This  sculptor  has  jast  completed  his  statue  of  "  Rich- 
ard Coeur  de  Lion."  It  is  magnificent.  In  the  foundry 
I  saw  the  statue  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  in  the  fiery  furnace 
The  Baron  unwrapt  the  model  in  clay  of  his  new  work, 
called  Ireland.  It  is  a  beautiful  face,  with  a  slight  sad- 
ness resting  upon  it. 

Statues  of  Prince  Albert,  of  her  Majesty,  and  of  the  royal 
children,  both  in  bronze  and  marble,  were  shown  me ;  also 
those  of  Lady  Constance  Grosvenor,  and  the  Duchess  of 
Argyle,  the  lovely  daughters  of  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland 

The  Baron,  a  splendid-looking  man,  is  quite  a  favorite 
sculptor  of  the  English  nobility ;  for  multitudes  of  their  busts 
and  statues  are  seen  in  his  rooms. 

We  next  drove  to  the  house  of  Signor  Gambadello,  an 
Italian  artist.  He  showed  me  a  very  fine  allegorical  picture 
of  War  and  Peace,  which  was  splendidly  painted,  and  also  a 
portrait  of  Lady  Morgan,  the  authoress. 

At  lunch  at  Miss  Haworth's  we  met  a  gentleman  who  is 
a  firm  believer  in  the  "  Spirit  Rappings."  He  was  intellect- 
ual and  agreeable,  and  has  written  a  book  on  the  subject  of 
the  "  tables  moving."  Although  coming  from  the  home  of 
the  art,  the  science  or  the  "humbug,"  I  could  give  them  no 
experiences,  never  having  seen  any  manifestations  of  it.  In 
consequence,  I  have  been  told,  by  those  versed  in  the  myste- 
ries, of  my  being  a  sceptic. 

We  drove  this  afternoon  with  the  Earl  of  Jermyn  and 
his  daughter.  Lady  Elizabeth  Hervey,  a  most  sweet  and 
lovely  young  creature,  through  Hyde  Park ;  then  walked  in 
the  Kensington  Gardens,  where  the  band  were  playing,  and 
multitudes  of  people  wandering  'ueath  the  trees.  After  list- 
ening a  time  we  went  on  to  the  Westminster  Palace. 

In   the    House  of  Peers  we   heard    a  debate,  in  which 


THE    HOUSE    OF    COMMONS.  47 

the  Lord  Chancellor,  Earl  Grey,  Lord  Derby,  Duke  of  New- 
castle, and  several  others  joined.  Of  all  the  speakers,  the 
Earl  of  Derby  pleased  me  most.  His  manner  is  excellent, 
his  appearance  fine,  and  his  speech,  though  severe,  gave 
token  of  his  great  talent.  Earl  Grrey  is  a  remarkably  noble- 
looking  man,  with  a  classic  face  and  well-modulated  voice. 
I  was  told  he  had  great  influence  over  the  Peers.  He  has 
the  air  of  a  man  born  to  command. 

In  the  House  of  Commons  they  were  discussing  Turkey 
and  Russia.  The  question  was  introduced  by  D'Israeli  in  a 
very  pertinent  speech,  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  dispatch  of 
Count  Nesselrode,  just  received,  on  the  subject  of  the  occu- 
pation of  the  Black  Sea,  by  the  allied  fleets. 

D'Israeli  is  not  a  very  eloquent  or  graceful  speaker. 
There  seems  such  an  affluence  of  thought,  he  hesitates  in  the 
choice  of  words. 

Lord  John  Russell  answered  him  as  the  champion  of  the 
Government.  His  voice  was  good,  and  his  manner  dignified 
and  quiet. 

The  style  of  debate  was  more  conversational  than  orator- 
ical. Courtesy  and  good  breeding  characterized  all  they 
said,  but  none  of  them  possessed  the  quick  nervous  style  of 
Calhoun,  the  massive  grandeur  of  Webster,  or  the  irresisti- 
ble, God-like  eloquence  of  Clay. 

The  House  of  Commons  in  point  of  comfort  is  immeasur- 
ably inferior  to  our  Hall  of  Representatives.  The  Members 
have  no  desks.  One  table  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
used  for  writing.  Under  a  crimson  canopy  sits  the  Speaker, 
and  near  him  several  clerks  in  long  gowns  and  white  wigs. 
At  one  end  of  the  room  is  a  gallery  enclosed  with  a  gild- 
ed lattice-work,  or  grating,  where  women  are  permitted  to 
hear^  but  not  to  be  seen.  It  reminded  me  of  the  golden 
screens  placed  in  the  palaces  of  the  Turkish   Sultans,  behind 


4:8  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

which  their  slave-wives  are  allowed  to  listen  to  the  music 
intended  to  delight  their  masters'  ears.  I  inquired  why 
there  was  such  a  lack  of  courtesy  towards  the  fairer  portion 
of  creation,  and  was  answered,  that  their  presence  was 
deemed  by  the  ancient  legislators  of  England,  as  of  too  ab- 
sorbing an  interest;  hence  they  were  wisely  kept  out  of 
sight. 

When  the  new  Houses  were  constructed,  Mr.  Joseph 
Hume,  and  several  others,  most  gallantly  strove  to  do  away 
with  the  restrictions  upon  female  privileges  ;  but  the  prejudice 
was  too  strong  against  the  innovation.  So  it  was  rebuilt 
entirely  after  the  fashion  of  the  "  olden  time." 

The  library  of  the  House  of  Commons  is  a  splendid 
room  opening  upon  the  river.  There  are  multitudes  of 
committee-rooms,  and  the  long  corridors,  panelled  in  oak, 
with  carved  arches  overhead,  are  magnificent.  During  our 
interesting  visit  to  the  palace  we  were  joined  by  Lord  John 
Manners,  who  is  certahily  one  of  the  most  genial  and  de- 
lightful persons  I  have  ever  met.  He  left  us  to  present 
some  petitions  from  the  manufacturers. 

Upon  the  centre  of  Westminster  Bridge,  we  stopped  to 
take  a  good  view  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  exterior 
is  beautiful.  Every  little  tower  is  sculptured  in  the  most 
tasteful  manner.  In  reply  to  my  question  of  how  much  did 
they  cost,  I  was  told  the  "  amount  was  so  great,  it  had  never 
been  reckoned  up." 

We  next  visited  Chelsea — the  home  of  the  old  soldiers, 
when  they  are  no  longer  enabled  to  serve  their  country. 
We  entered  the  room  v.  here  the  body  of  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington lay  in  state  for  three  days.  During  that  time,  it 
was  visited  by  one  million  of  people. 

Our  day  ended  by  passing  the  evening  and  taking  tea 
with  the  courtly   Earl  of    Jermyn    and  his  daughter.      It 


DR.   BOWKING.  49 

was  a  sweet,  quiet,  and  pleasant  time  we  spent  with  them. 
A  true  English  home  is  delightful.  Painting  and  sculpture 
embellish  it.  Music  and  poetry  linger  around  it.  Then  the 
charm  of  the  simple  and  cordial  hospitality,  so  warm  from 
the  heart."  Ah  !  little  do  they  who  call  the  English  a  cold, 
ceremonious  people,  know  of  their  inner  life ! 

The  Earl  showed  me  a  picture  of  the  Duchess  of  Rutland. 
AVhat  a  gloriously  beautiful  woman  she  must  have  been  !  I 
also  saw  a  portrait  of  the  Duke  of  Bristol  (the  Earl's  father), 
which  was  admirable. 

July  6th. — I  gave  the  morning  to  returnirg  visits,  and 
lunched  at  Lady  Wharncliffe's,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
being  presented  to  the  Dowager  Lady  Wharncliffe,  a  most 
noble,  well-preserved  old  lady.  Her  manner  was  so  graceful 
and  elegant,  so  full  of  kindness.  Age  seemed  not  to  have 
taken  from  her  the  charm  of  a  warm  heart.  Her  grand- 
daughter, the  Marchioness  of  Drogheda,  is  a  brilliant  spi- 
rituelle  woman,  enthusiastic  and  liberal  in  her  opinions. 
She  is  the  wife  of  an  Irish  peer,  the  Marquis  of  Drogheda  ; 
and  mentioned  she  had  remained  in  the  prison-like  gallery 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  until  four  the  night  before, 
so  much  had  she  been  interested  in  some  measure  under  de- 
bate, concerning  Ireland. 

At  eight  we  went  to  a  grand  state  dinner  at  Mr. 
Joseph  Hume's,  where  we  met  many  distinguished  people ; 
among  them  Dr.  Bowring,  the  linguist  and  poet.  He  has 
published  many  translations  from  the  Persian,  Armenian, 
and  Chinese  poets.  He  is  British  consul  at  Hong  Kong,  and 
gave  us  some  amusing  descriptions  of  the  manners  and  liter- 
ature of  the  Chinese.  Although  he  looks  an  old  man,  he  is 
sparkling  in  conversation,  and  has  all  the  vivacity  of  youth. 

Mr.  Joseph  Hume  is  the  leader  of  the  Reform  party  ; 
and  a  most  estimable  and  eloquent  man.  He  is  a  Scotch- 
VoL.  T.— 8 


50  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

man,  who  in  early  youth  went  as  a  physician  to  India,  where 
he  made  a  fortune ;  returned  to  England  and  entered  Par- 
liament, of  which  he  has  been  a  member  now  forty  years. 
His  daughters  are  gifted  and  intellectual  women.  One  of 
them  has  written  a  most  charming  volume  of  poems.  Mrs. 
Hume  is  a  dear,  kind  old  Scotch  lady.  Her  goodness  is  as 
refreshing  as  the  sunlight.  They  were  such  excellent  friends 
to  us,  and  never  can  I  forget  the  many  happy  hours  I  have 
spent  with  them. 

At  the  dinner,  my  seat  was  by  the  side  of  the  Governor 
of  Jamaica;  he  was  a  very  elegant  person,  and  interested  us 
vastly  by  his  graphic  description  of  the  Islands  of  the  West 
Indies. 

I  admire  exceedingly  the  style  of  the  dinners  in  London ; 
there  is  such  a  quiet  manner  in  the  arrangements:  no 
bustle  and  confusion  in  changing  the  plates ;  no  interrup- 
tion in  the  conversation,  in  being  called  upon  to  take  wine. 
One's  glass  is  kept  filled,  and  you  drink  it  if  you  please. 
The  dessert  is  beautiful — every  variety  of  fruits,  flowers, 
jellies,  ices,  and  creams ;  but  the  fish  and  venison  do  not 
equal  those  of  the  New  World. 

After  dinner,  the  guests  all  assembled  in  the  drawing- 
rooms,  where  we  were  soon  joined  by  others  invited  for  the 
evening  party.  There  was  music  and  cards,  and  tlie  favorite 
English  racing  game ;  and  thus  most  pleasantly  passed  away 
the  hours  until  one  o'clock,  when  we  retired. 


CHAPTEE    YII. 

July  1th. 
We  visited  Grosvenor   House  to-day,  in  company  with  the 
Hon.  Mrs.  Wortley.     It  is  the  residence  of  the  Marquis  of 
Westminster.     It  is  a  grand  old  building,  with  a  screen  of 
classic-looking  pillars  dividing  it  from  the  street. 

We  were  invited  to  walk  through  the  picture-gallery, 
which  was  a  great  delight  to  me.  The  walls  were  covered 
with  a  fine  and  rare  collection,  while  many  exquisite  statues 
and  vases  of  verde-antique  were  seen  in  the  rooms.  The 
paintings  which  particularly  pleased  me,  were  those  by 
Rubens  and  by  Guido.  "  Sarah  dismissing  Hagar  "  is  ad- 
mirable, also  the  four  Scriptural  paintings  by  Rubens, 
the  "  Marriage  of  Cana,"  by  Paul  Veronese,  the  "  Infant 
Christ,"  by  Guido,  the  "  Tribute  Money,"  by  Titian,  the 
"  Holy  Family,"  by  Salvator  Rosa,  the  "  King  of  Spain,"  by 
Velasquez,  the  "  Salutation  of  Elizabeth,"  by  Rembrandt,  and 
"  Mrs.  Siddons  as  the  Tragic  Muse,"  a  splendid  picture  by 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  The  original  painting  cost  £1,760. 
There  was  a  most  touching  picture  of  the  "  Death  of  General 
Wolfe,"  by  Benjamin  West.  Many  landscapes  by  Claude 
Lorraine  were  exquisite,  also  those  by  Poussin,  by  Teniers, 
by  Gerard,  by  Vandervelde.  The  "  Distressed  Poet,"  by 
Hogarth,  is  excellent. 


52  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

The  drawing-rooms  opened  upon  most  lovely  grounds, 
where  old  trees  o'ershadowed  the  greensward,  fresh  and 
smooth  as  emerald-hued  velvet.  No  sound  of  the  great  city 
reached  us  there. 

At  three  we  went  to  Greenwich,  accompanied  by  Sir 
Frederick  Xdam,  an  old  veteran  of  Waterloo,  whose  acquaint- 
ance I  had  made  at  her  Majesty's  ball.  He  was  a  delight- 
ful cicerone,  and  a  most  pleasant  man.  He  pointed  out  to 
us  all  the  objects  of  interest  en  route.  His  brother  was 
Governor  of  Greenwich,  and  we  thus  had  permission  to  see 
every  portion  of  the  building.  This  hospital  is  for  disabled 
sailors.  It  was  founded  by  William  and  Mary,  and  is  built 
upon  the  site  of  the  old  manor  house,  where  Mary  and 
Elizabeth  were  born. 

The  great  hall  by  Wren  is  magnificent.  The  portraits  of 
the  Royal  family  are  mingled  in  an  allegorical  picture  upon 
the  ceiling.  The  walls  are  hung  with  the  portraits  of  naval 
and  military  heroes.  The  Battle  of  Trafalgar,  by  Turner, 
is  a  fine,  spirited  painting.  We  saw  the  coat  worn  by  Nelson 
when  he  received  his  death-wound.  It  is  preserved  as  a 
precious  relic. 

There  are  a  number  of  statues  erected  by  Parliament, 
which  one  of  the  "Ancient  Mariners  "  explained  to  us.  There 
are  two  thousand  old  sailors  in  this  hospital.  Many  never 
leave  their  beds.  The  institution  is  very  rich,  having  an  in- 
come of  130,000  pounds  sterling  a  year. 

Numbers  of  the  old  pensioners  were  seated  on  benches, 
with  their  friends,  or  children,  or  grandchildren  around  them. 
They  seemed  happy  and  contented,  and  are  permitted  to  re- 
ceive visitors  at  stated  hours. 

In  all  directions  about  London  are  Asylums  for  the  af- 
flicted. The  public  charities  are  noble.  Enormous  sums 
must  be  yearly  spent  in  the  relief  of  the  poor. 


BLACK    HEATH.  53 

In  Bromptoii  there  is  an  institution  for  consumptive 
j)atients,  where  only  maladies  of  the  lungs  are  treated. 
Jenny  Lind  gave  largely  to  this  charity. 

We  made  a  long  and  agreeable  visit  to  Greenwich,  and, 
parting  with  regret  from  Sir  Frederick,  we  drove  over 
Black  Heath.  This  is  a  great  waste,  or  common,  where 
cricket  is  played,  and  where  women  hire  out  donkeys  for  a 
ride  across  the  Heath.  Midway  of  the  plain  there  is  an 
excellent  view  of  London,  and  afar  off  the  Crystal  Palace 
of  Sydenham,  now  building,  was  gleaming  in  the  sunlight. 

We  went  to  dine  with  our  cordial  friend,  Mr.  Bennoch. 
His  cottage  is  a  sweet  spot,  encircled  by  trees,  and  with 
a  lovely  garden  of  bright-hued  flowers.  Every  where  the 
eyes  are  blest  by  beautiful  flowers.  Much  more  do  these 
northern  people  seem  to  prize  them  than  we  of  the  south. 
Nearly  all  the  houses,  it  matters  not  how  humble,  have  their 
little  gardens,  and  even  in  the  most  thronged  and  tumult- 
'uous  portions  of  the  city  flowers  are  in  the  windows.  Even 
in  tlie  wretched  dwellings  of  the  poor  they  are  seen  grow- 
ing in  broken  cups  and  old  boxes.  Whenever  I  looked 
upon  them  I  could  but  feel  there  were  still  refined  emotions 
in  these  victims  of  toil.  There  was  still  a  love  for  the 
beautiful  which  not  even  poverty  could  destroy. 

Mr,  Bennoch  had  kindly  assembled  a  charming  company 
to  meet  us, — our  delightful  Grace  Greenwood,  and  lovely 
Camilla  Crosland ;  then  the  German  poet,  Ferdinand  Freili- 
grath,  who  is  a  handsome  man,  with  a  wondrous  fine  head, 
and  a  face  glowing  with  soul  and  honest  feeling. 

Sir  Henry  Bishop  was  among  the  guests.  He  is  a  tall, 
cold,  stern-looking  man ;  his  face  however  lighted  up  when  he 
seated  himself  at  the  piano-forte  and  played  "  Home,-'  and 
various  other  songs,  which  have  become  as  household  words. 
His  touch  of  the   instrument  was  exquisite  ;  such  grace  and 


54  60UVEMIKS    OF    TRAVEL. 

melody  flowed  from  it,  we  constantly  entreated  "  yet  another, 
yet  another." 

It  was  here,  too,  I  came  to  know  Mr.  and  Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall. 
They  are  both  authors  and  poets,  and  genial,  warm-hearted, 
intelligent  people.  Mrs.  Hall  was  the  friend  of  Kate  Hayes, 
the  Irish  vocalist,  and  the  first  to  encourage  her.  I  was 
glad  I  could  tell  how  vividly  impressed  upon  the  grateful 
heart  of  Katy  was  her  every  act  of  kindness  and  protection. 

Another  chord  of  sympathy  drew  me  to  Mrs.  Hall.  She 
was  also  the  friend  of  Miss  Bremer,  and  we  sat  in  long  and* 
earnest  talk  concerning  this  much-loved  philanthropist  and 
cherished  friend? 

As  we  were  to  return  by  the  railway  to  London,  we  left 
our  kind  host  and  his  sweet  wife  about  one  o'clock,  and, 
accompanied  by  the  German  poet  and  Sir  Henry,  were  soon 
en  route. 

How  much  I  enjoyed  that  short  journey.  It  passed  in 
conversation  with  Freiligrath.  In  my  own  country  he  seem- 
ed to  feel  the  deepest  interest,  and  spoke  with  high  apprecia- 
tion of  Longfellow,  whom  he  had  met  in  Germany.  He  is 
truly  republican  in  sentiment,  and  remarked  with  wonder 
upon  our  progress,  and  the  energy  of  Americans.  In  speak- 
ing of  his  own  country  he  was  most  eloquent  and  inspiring. 
He  has  been  twice  exiled  from  Prussia,  his  native  land. 
Both  times  he  has  found  a  home  in  England.  I  believe  it 
was  his  fine  poem,  "  The  Living  to  the  Dead,"  which  was 
chanted  by  the  students  in  Dusseldorf,  thereby  causing 
his  arrest,  trial,  and  exile.  He  still  evinces  a  most  heroic 
devotion  to  freedom. 

When  we  left  the  railway,  we  walked  across  London 
Bridge,  and  took  a  cab  into  the  city.  It  was  a  bright,  clear 
night,  and  the  great  dome  of  St.  Paul's  seemed  like  a 
mighty  giant,  watching  over  the  slumbers  of  the  inhabitants. 


STAFFORD    HOUSE.  65 

The  moonlight  fell  softly  upon  the  sculptured  turrets  of 
Westminster  Palace.  The  hum  of  commerce  was  silent,  and, 
of  London, 

"  All  that  mighty  heart  was  lying  still." 

July  Sth. — We  went  this  morning  with  Lady  Wharncliffe 
to  visit  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland's  splendid  mansion,  "  Staf- 
ford House,"  which  was  commenced  by  the  Duke  of  York.  It 
belongs  to  the  Crown,  but  is  leased  by  the  Duke  of  Suther- 
land, who  has  greatly  enlarged  it. 

Although  the  exterior  is  not  very  striking,  within  all  is 
regal  splendor.  The  great  hall  is  magnificent.  It  occu- 
pies the  centre  of  the  buildiug,  and  is  roofed  over  by  a  lofty 
dome.  Along  three  sides  of  the  hall  extends  a  gallery,  sus- 
tained by  pillars.  On  the  fourth  is  the  staircase  ;  half-way 
up  there  is  a  lauding,  whence  diverge  two  flights  of  steps. 
Upon  this  landing  is  a  statue  of  the  Sybil,  by  Rinaldi.  The 
stairs  are  covered  with  scarlet  cloth,  and  many  fine  works  of 
art  adorn  this  wonderful  hall.  Among  them  I  saw  an  ex- 
quisite marble  bust  of  Lady  Constance  Grosvenor,  by  the 
Baron  Marochetti,  and  a  bust  in  plaster  of  Mrs.  Beecher 
Stowe,  the  authoress  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin." 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  describe  the  gorgeousness  and 
beautiful  arrangements  of  this  noble  mansion.  There  is  an 
elegance,  an  adaptativeness  in  all  the  combinations,  manifest- 
ing clearly  the  inspiration  of  feminine  taste.  There  is  such 
a  perfect  tone  and  keeping  in  the  hangings  of  the  rooms,  and 
in  the  furniture  adapted  to  each.  All  is  so  luxurious  and  so 
unique. 

The  walls  of  the  Green  Drawing-room  were  hung  with 
green  satin,  and  the  furniture  of  green  and  gold.  Then  we 
came  to  the  room  with  crimson  hangings,  and  furniture  of 
the  snme  color.     Then  to  the  Blue-and  to  the  Yellow  Draw- 


56  SOUVENIKS    OF    TRAVEL. 

ing-room,  with  silver  adornments  in  place  of  the  golden.  The 
ceilings  are  carved  and  gilded,  and  many  of  the  walls  adorn- 
ed with  frescoes.  The  chandeliers  were  of  quaint,  curious 
forms.   One,  of  great  water-lilies,  was  uncommonly  beautiful. 

The  furniture  in  many  of  the  apartments  was  of  antique 
form,  inlaid  with  gold,  silver  and  ivory.  There  was  a  daz- 
zling profusion  of  objects  of  virtu^  exquisite  statues  by  famous 
sculptors,  all  arranged  in  the  most  artistic  manner.  Pic- 
tures of  Queen  Victoria,  of  Prince  Albert,  and  of  the  Koyal 
children,  were  seen  in  several  rooms. 

The  picture-gallery  is  very  spacious,  and  contains  many 
rare  paintings.  There,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  pictures 
of  MuriUo.  What  ripe  and  fervid  beauty  glows  upon  the 
canvas  !  The  breath  of  life  seems  to  issue  from  those  rich 
lips,  and  its  light  to  irradiate  those  liquid,  melting  eyes. 
Then  there  were  Titians,  Guercinos,  Raphaels,  Tintoret- 
tos,  Rubens ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence's  picture  of  the 
Duchess  of  Sutherland  and  her  child,  which  I  have  so  often 
seen  engraved  in  America.  The  resemblance  is  still  strik- 
ing. As  the  poet  said  of  Cleopatra,  in  the  ancient  time,  we 
of  the  modern  may  express  of  this  beauteous  woman,  "  Age 
cannot  wither  her."  A  picture,  by  Landseer,  of  Lord  Staf- 
ford and  Lady  Evelyn  Gower,  was  exceedingly  fine,  also  that 
of  Paul  de  la  Roche,  representing  Lord  Straff"ord,  on  his  way 
to  the  scafi'old,  receiving  the  blessing  of  Archbishop  Laud. 

In  the  picture-gallery  is  a  divan  of  crimson  and  gold, 
upon  which  her  Majesty  is  seated  when  she  visits  Stafford 
House.  The  Queen  occasionally  visits  the  Duchess,  who  is 
an  especial  favorite,  I  was  told.  But  it  is  not  etiquette  for 
the  sovereign  to  enter  the  houses  of  her  subjects,  although 
she  has  visited  Belvoir  Castle,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Rut- 
land. The  Duchess  of  Sutherland  belongs  to  this  noble 
family,  being  niece  to  the  Duchess  of  Rutland. 


POVERTY    AND    PLENTY.  57 

The  ball-room  and  the  dining-room  are  superb  in  size  and 
in  decorations.  Around  the  house  are  gardens,  with  green 
bowers,  radiant  flower-beds,  and  tall  trees.  The  balcony  has 
a  fine  view  of  Hyde  Park,  and  its  brilliant  equipages  and 
dashing  horsemen.  While  I  was  looking  out  upon  the  ani- 
mated scene,  my  eyes  fell  upon  a  miserable  woman  in  the 
side-street,  just  under  the  wall.  Scanty  rags  hung  about 
her  withered  form,  and  two  children,  as  wretched  as  herself 
in  appearance,  clung  to  her.  Their  eyes,  with  that  fearful 
look  of  starvation  in  them,  were  fixed  upon  the  balcony,  and 
their  hands  clasped  as  in  supplication.  It  was  indeed  the 
beggar  at  the  rich  man's  door.  I  felt  I  could  read  the  starv- 
ing mother's  thoughts,  as  she  gazed  upon  the  grandeur  be- 
fore her,  and  was  famished  for  one  crust  of  bread.  It  must 
be  more  terrible  to  endure  poverty,  when  plenty  is  around 
us,  and  yet  never  within  the  grasp.  Save  in  this  instance  and 
a  few  others,  I  have  never  seen  beggars  in  the  "West  End  of 
London.  In  the  city  I  have  met  them,  sad,  blighted,  and 
horrid  objects. 

But  again  we  entered  the  great  drawing-room,  with  its 
treasures  of  art  and  its  matchless  adornments,  and  thus  on 
through  the  magnificent  hall  to  the  carriage,  quite  enchanted 
with  our  visit. 

At  night  we  went  to  a  delightful  party  at  the  American 
Minister's.  Many  distinguished  persons  were  there  ;  among 
them  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  blazing  with  diamonds,  the 
Armenian  Minister,  and  several  attaches  of  the  Persian 
Legation  in  gorgeous  dresses.  The  noble  old  Prince  Czar- 
torisky,  and  his  wife,  son,  and  daughter,  were  among  the 
guests. 

Mr.  Ingersoll  is  extremely  hospitable  to  his  countrymen 
and  countrywomen,  and  numerous  Americans  were  present. 
We  gladly  met  many  of  our  compagnons  du  voyage  across 
Vol.  I.— 3* 


58  SOUVENIRS    OF   'rRAVP:L. 

the  Atlantic.  They  had  already  been  over  Ireland,  Scotland, 
and  England,  while  we  had  tarried  in  London.  But  so  en- 
rapturing have  my  friends  made  the  city  to  us,  it  has  been 
impossible  to  tear  ourselves  from  them.  We  came  just  at 
the  most  fortunate  period,  in  the  midst  of  the  "  season,"  and 
like  the  realization  of  a  happy  dream,  has  life  been  to  me 
for  weeks  past. 

At  Mr.  IngersolPs  I  met  Rossiter  and  his  lovely  young 
bride.  Kossiter,  the  celebrated  artist,  is  a  wonderfully 
handsome  man.  He  has  a  perfectly  classic  face,  with  the 
fire  of  genius  and  the  glow  of  a  noble  heart  beaming  in  every 
feature.  His  wife  (Miss  Parmley)  was  radiant  in  her 
loveliness,  with  the  "light  of  the  honeymoon  yet  lingering 
on  her  brow."  She  is  a  bright,  enthusiastic  creature,  with 
infinite  talent  as  an  artist.  I  have  rarely  seen  a  couple 
in  which  there  seemed  such  sympathy  of  taste  and  feeling. 
They  were  just  going  to  Egypt,  to  the  East,  and  then  to 
Italy,  to  pass  several  years.  We  may  look  for  some  glorious 
pictures  from  them.  How  beautiful  life  was  to  them — 
"young,  loving,  and  beloved." 

July  l^th. — We  attended  a  charming  and  novel  enter- 
tainment (at  least  to  me)  this  morning.  It  was  the  Floral 
Fete,  given  in  the  Botanical  Gardens  of  Chiswick.  The 
rarest  fruits  and  finest  flowers  were  exhibited  under  im- 
mense tents.  It  was  a  gay  scene,  indeed  ;  banners  were 
flyings  music  playing,  and  gaily-dressed  people  wandering 
amid  the  flowers  and  trees. 

Near  by  the  gardens,  is  the  villa  of  the  Duke  of  Devon- 
shire, who  had  given  permission  to  the  Botanical  Society  to 
continue  the  festival  in  his  grounds.  Thus,  after  viewing 
the  fruits  and  flowers  for  a  time,  we  passed  into  his  domains. 

How  lovely  was  the  scene  !  Lakes,  groves,  arbors, 
avenues,  and  grand  old  fir  trees,  perfect  giants !     They  ap» 


THE    CATHEDRAL    OF    ST.  PAUL.  59 

peared  the  original  trees  beneath  whose  shelter  the  Druids 
celebrated  their  rites.  The  villa  is  very  ancient,  and  is 
seldom  visited  by  the  Duke.  Its  surroundings  are  exquisite. 
In  a  miniature  lake,  there  were  several  black  swans.  More 
than  50,000  persons  were  in  the  grounds  during  the  day. 
In  all  this  throng  there  was  the  most  entire  decorum  and 
courtesy  manifested.  Of  course,  they  were  of  the  better 
class  of  people,  mingled  with  multitudes  of  the  nobility. 

We  wandered  with  delight  through  the  leafy  labyrinths, 
and  over  the  smoothly-clipt  meadows.  Suddenly  down  came 
the  rain.  We  sheltered  ourselves  beneath  a  great  yew  tree, 
and  were  secure  from  every  drop  ;  but  others  were  not  thus 
happy,  for  more  wilted-looking  creatures  were  never  seen. 
The  delicate  gauzy  bonnets  were  hanging  down  like  the 
leaves  of  a  blighted  lily.  The  stiff  petticoats  were  crushed 
out  of  their  round  proportions,  and  the  long  skirts  trailed  on 
the  wet  grass  in  a  most  languishing  way.  What  a  change 
from  the  gay  flaunting  morning  ! 

We  quietly  waited  until  the  rain  had  ceased,  then 
passed  again  into  the  Botanical  Gardens,  where  we  visited 
the  different  conservatories,  and  saw  many  curious  plants  of 
the  cactus  family. 

At  night,  we  crossed  the  London  Bridge,  and  went  to 
the  Surrey  Theatre  to  hear  "  Robert  the  Devil ;  "  and  the 
part  of  Bertram  the  Fiend  was  played  by  Henry  Drayton,  a 
young  American.  To  hear  him,  was  the  especial  purpose  of 
our  visit  to  that  distant  theatre.  He  has  a  grand,  deep 
basso,  and  rendered  the  music  in  a  most  effective  manner. 

July  11th. — We  visited  this  morning  the  Cathedral  of 
St.  Paul.  It  is  so  closely  surrounded  by  houses,  half  the 
effect  of  its  grandeur  is  lost  when  one  approaches  near  it. 
An  excellent  view  is  obtained  from  Black  Friars  Bridge 
over  the  Thames ;  in  truth,  from  all  points,  the  magnificent 


^0  SOUVENIRS    OF    TKAVEL. 

dome  rises  far  above  all  other  objects,  like  a  giant  sentinel 
watching  over  the  city. 

It  is  of  the  classic  style,  and  was  built  upon  the  site  of 
the  former  church  destroyed  by  the  great  fire  of  London ;  it 
is  in  tlie  form  of  a  Latin  cross ;  Sir  C.  Wren  was  the  archi- 
tect. The  cathedral  is  five  hundred  feet  long,  one  hundred 
in  width,  and  four  hundred  from  the  street  to  the  summit  of 
the  dome. 

Near  the  entrance  is  a  statue  of  Queen  Ann,  and  the 
pediment  has  the  statues  of  St.  Paul,  St.  Peter,  and  St. 
James.  The  interior  is  cold,  gloomy,  and  austere  ;  the 
numerous  pillars  so  occupy  the  attention,  it  requires  some 
time  before  one  becomes  fully  impressed  with  its  wonderful 
size. 

There  are  many  noble  monuments  within  its  sacred  walls, 
and  in  the  crypt  below  the  bodies  of  illustrious  men  "  sleep 
their  last  sleep."  Of  course,  we  looked  first  at  the  monu- 
ment of  Nelson  by  Flaxman ;  in  the  vault  his  body  lies  in  a 
sarcophagus,  which  was  intended  by  Cardinal  Woolsey  for 
Henry  YIII.  Nelson  was  an  idol  with  the  English  people ; 
constantly  have  we  seen  statues  to  his  memory,  and  memo- 
rials of  his  valor ;  yet  the  only  woman  he  ever  loved,  and 
whom  with  his  last  breath  of  life  he  bequeathed  to  his 
country,  entreating  protection  for  her,  was  left  to  sufl'er  and 
to  die  in  the  greatest  poverty,  and  his  child  cast  forth  to 
struggle  with  misery  and  wretchedness.  Active  benevolence 
to  the  being  in  whose  veins  flowed  the  hero's  blood,  would 
much  more  avail  than  these  cold  trophies  to  his  glory. 

The  monument  to  Sir  John  Moore,  who  was  killed  at  C(/ 
runna,  is  most  touching  in  its  impression  upon  the  beholder 

"  lie  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  liis  rest, 
With  Lis  martial  cloak  around  him." 


THE    princess's    THEATRE.  61 

These  lines  have  immortalized  the  dying  scene  of  that  brave 
soldier. 

Then  near  by  is  the  statue  of  Bishop  Heber,  the  "  Sol- 
dier of  the  Cross,"  whose  victories,  though  bloodless,  were  as 
worthy  of  immortality.     It  is  a  kneeling  figure  by  Chaiitrey. 

There  is  a  statue  of  Howard  the  philanthropist,  by 
Bacon.  The  expression  of  the  face  is  beautiful..  Then 
statues  to  military  and  naval  heroes,  to  great  scholars,  sur- 
geons, physicians,  and  historians. 

Standing  beneath  the  great  dome,  the  effect  of  the  light  is 
admirable.  It  seems  as  though  the  glorious  heavens  roofed 
over  the  Cathedral.  The  dome  is  the  finest  in  the  world,  it 
is  said,  save  that  of  St.  Peter's,  which  I  shall  seme  day  see. 

At  night  we  accompanied  a  party  of  pleasant  friends  to 
the  Princess's  Theatre.  The  play  was  "  Sardanapalus,  "  writ- 
ten by  Lord  Byron,  and  put  upon  the  stage  by  Kean.  Until 
after  the  discoveries  in  Nineveh  and  Babylon  by  Layard,  it  had 
been  deemed  impossible  to  adapt  this  remarkable  drama  to 
the  stage.  After  great  study  of  the  drapery  of  the  sculp- 
ture and  statuary  brought  thence,  Kean  arranged  the 
tragedy  as  an  acting  play,  having  all  the  dresses  made  pre- 
cisely like  those  represented  in  the  frescoes.  The  actors 
then  studied  the  pose  and  attitudes  of  these  figures.  It 
really  seemed  as  though  life  had  suddenly  entered  the 
pictured  forms  of  the  "  olden  time,"  and  they  had  stepped 
forth  from  their  immobility,  and  mingled  again  in  the  bril- 
liant pageant  of  existence.  The  banquet  scene,  where  the 
almas  (or  dancing  girls)  were  introduced,  was  exceedingly 
gorgeous.  Then  their  dress  and  mode  of  dancing  were 
unique  and  picturesque.  The  conflagration  at  the  finale 
was  singularly  grand  and  fearful.  Kean  and  his  wife  filled 
the  principal  parts.  The  Princess's  Theatre  is  the  finest  I 
have  seen  except  the  Opera  House. 


CHAPTER    YIII. 

Juhj  I2th. 
I    HAVE  been   truly  happy   for   the  last  two   days.     Dear 
Lady  Emmeline  has  spent  them  with  me. 

When  we  reached  London  she  had  already  gone  to  Dover, 
en  route  for  Norway  and  Sweden ;  but  the  steamer  being 
delayed,  she  ran  up  to  the  city,  expressly  to  see  me^  Ah ! 
what  a  joy  it  was  again  to  meet  her  !  Kind,  affectionate, 
and  precious  friend  that  she  has  been  to  me  for  long,  long 
years.  Once  more  to  see  her  had  been  the  greatest  inducement 
to  visit  England.  I  gave  up  every  engagement,  that  we  might, 
pass  all  the  hours  of  her  sojourn  together.  She  drove  us  in 
her  fine  equipage  through  the  parks,  around  the  environs  of 
London,  and  with  her  we  revisited  many  of  the  monuments 
of  the  great  city. 

She  brought  me  a  kind  invitation  from  her  father  to 
spend  the  month  of  December  at  Belvoir  Castle,  but  I  could 
not  accept  it,  for  by  that  period  we  shall  be  in  our  own 
home.  I,  however,  promised  her  to  make  a  short  visit  there 
ere  we  left  for  the  Continent. 

Lady  Emmeline  had  been  a  great  wanderer  since  we 
parted  by  the  ^'  shores  of  the  Mexican  sea."  She  had  trav- 
elled through  Mexico,  had  crossed  the  Isthmus  of  Panama, 
had  been  upon  the  Andes,  in  the  Islands  of  the  West  Indies, 


LADY    EMMELINE    WOKTLEY.  63 

in  Madeira,  in  Portugal,  and  Spain.  Her  descriptions  of  all 
these  countries  were  most  graphic  and  eloquent,  and  for 
hours  I  listened  in  wrapt  attention  to  her  vivid  delineations 
of  character  and  portrayal  of  scenery. 

What  a  woman  of  genius  she  is !  What  enthusiasm  and 
energy  she  possesses  !  Her  heart  is  the  home  of  every  noble 
virtue,  of  every  refined  sentiment.  How  sweetly  she  talked 
of  my  mother  and  my  child  !  How  appreciatively  she  spoke 
of  America — above  all,  of  the  United  States.  With  what 
pride  she  dwelt  upon  the  onward  progress  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race  in  the  New  World.  Although  belonging  to  the 
highest  rank  of  'the  English  aristocracy,  she  is  free  from  all 
prejudice  towards  our  institutions.  She  is  liberal,  frank, 
and  generous  in  opinion.  Victoria,  her  sweet  young  daugh- 
ter, accompanied  her,  now  grown  to  be  a  lovely  woman, 
gifted,  well  educated,  artless  and  unaffected  in  manner. 
She  possesses  a  great  talent  for  painting,  and  her  sketch- 
book, containing  views  from  many  lands,  is  a  treasure. 

I  lingered  with  this  dearly  loved  friend  until  the  hour  of 
her  departure.  Although  our  separation  was  to  be  brief  (as 
we  proposed  meeting  in  six  weeks),  I  parted  from  her  with 
deepest  regret  and  sad  emotion.  Most  truly  kind  has  she 
been,  and  from  her  cordial  mention  of  me,  all  her  family  have 
united  in  bestowing  a  welcome,  delightful  as  it  has  been  flat- 
tering and  gratifying. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Jub/  Ut/i. 

We  had  a  delightful  ride, .  at  early  morning,  to  Windsor. 
This  castellated  palace  is  massive  and  majestic.  It  has  all 
the  elegance  of  modern  life,  and  the  hallowed  associations  of 
antiquity. 

William  the  Conqueror  began  the  erection  of  this  noble 
edifice,  leaving  its  completion,  however,  to  the  sovereigns 
who  succeeded  him. 

After  ascending  a  multitude  of  stone  steps,  we  found  our- 
selves in  the  court  of  the  Castle,  and  entered  thence  into  St. 
George's  Chapel,  built  in  the  Gothic  style,  with  lofty  win- 
dows. It  contains  the  tombs  of  the  three  last  kings  of  Eng- 
land, and  many  celebrated  personages  are  buried  within 
little  chapels,  separated  from  the  aisles  by  iron  railings. 
At  our  request,  the  guide  opened  for  us  that  of  the  Rut- 
land family.  There  we  saw  two  eflBgies,  representing  Lord 
and  Lady  Manners  de  Boss,  the  first  of  the  family  who  came 
over  with  William  the  Conqueror.  The  date  upon  the  tomb 
was  1500.  Immediately  opposite  to  this  monument,  was 
that  of  the  Wharncliffe  family. 

In  the  St.  George  Chapel  is  the  cenotaph  of  Princess 
Charlotte.     It  is  a  very  singular  monument.     The  body  of 


GOBELIN    TAPESTRY.  65 

the  Princess  is  presented  at  the  moment  life  has  left  it.  A 
covering  is  thrown  over  it,  through  which  is  seen  the  relaxa- 
tion of  death,  without  its  rigidity.  Several  forms  are  bend- 
ing around  it,  in  the  muteness  of  despair,  while  above  them 
rises  a  form,  with  wings,  springing  upwards  to  heaven.  The 
face  has  a  mingled  expression  of  joy  and  triumph.  Two 
angels  are  hovering  around.  One  holds,  fast  folded  to  its 
bosom,  the  infant  of  the  Princess ;  the  other,  with  clasped 
hands,  seems  to  lead  the  way  to  realms  above. 

In  the  choir  are  the  stalls  of  the  Knights  of  the  Garter, 
with  their  names  on  plates  on  the  carved  chairs,  and  their 
banners  hanging  above  them. 

We  next  proceeded  to  the  State  apartments,  which  are 
splendid,  from  their  wealth  of  pictures.  There  were  many 
by  Rembrandt,  Corregio,  Rubens,  Van  Dyke,  Holbein, 
Claude  Lorraine,  ana  Poussin. 

The  Audience  Chamber  was  panelled  with  gobelin  tap- 
estry, portraying  Scriptural  scenes  in  the  history  of  Morde- 
eai,  of  Esther  and  Haman.  In  this  room  is  also  a  picture 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  said  to  be  the  most  perfect  resem- 
blance of  her  in  existence.  There  is  also  a  small  painting 
representing  the  beheading  of  the  hapless  queen. 

In  another  room  the  entire  tragedy  of  Medea  is  woven 
in  tapestry,  from  the  moment  of  cutting  down  the  Golden 
Fleece  by  Jason,  to  the  last  scene,  where  the  infuriated  Me- 
dea bears  away  the  bodies  of  her  children,  murdered  by  her 
own  hand,  to  revenge  the  infidelity  of  Jason.  The  expres- 
sion of  these  pictures  is  spirited  and  life-like. 

We  passed  through  a  number  of  picture-galleries,  each 
bearing  the  naine  of  the  painter  to  whose  pictures  it  was  de- 
voted. The  Van  Dyke  gallery  was  filled  with  his  works — 
many  pictures  of  Charles  the  First,  and  his  queen,  Maria 
Henrietta,  then   the  beauties  of  that  reign.     The  "  Zucca- 


66  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

relH  Gallery  "  has  beautiful  landscapes  by  this  painter.  In 
the  centre  of  the  room  is  a  curious  bed,  sent  to  the  Queen 
by  the  Grand  Mogul.  It  has  a  mosqueto  net  over  it,  of  the 
finest  lace,  embroidered  with  gold. 

The  ball-room  is  superb,  the  walls  gilded,  and  hung  with 
crimson  satin. 

The  grand  dining-room,  called  the  "  "Waterloo  Room," 
is  hung  around  with  portraits  of  the  kings  of  England,  of 
Nicholas  of  Russia,  of  Richelieu,  of  Humboldt,  of  Welling- 
ton, of  Metternich,  of  Blucher,  of  Walter  Scott.  Many  of 
these  paintings  are  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. 

One  of  our  kind  friends  had  obtained  permission  for  us 
to  visit  the  private  apartments  of  the  Queen.  These  are  de- 
lightful rooms,  luxuriously  and  tastefully  furnished,  with 
that  charming  home-look  of  comfort  which  seemed  to  per- 
vade all  English  houses,  from  the  palace  of  the  sovereign  to 
the  humble  abode  of  the  artisan.  In  one  of  the  corridors, 
amid  many  objects  of  vertii,  I  was  exceedingly  interested  by 
the  pictures  of  Canaletto.  Venice  appeared  absolutely  be- 
fore us,  with  its  palaces,  bridges,  churches,  and  gondolas. 
The  coloring  is  peculiar  and  exquisite.  In  these  apartments 
we  saw  the  painting  which  represents  the  Coronation  of 
Queen  Victoria,  and  other  scenes  illustrative  of  great  events 
in  her  life.  There  were  two  immense  vases,  presented  by  the 
Emperor  of  Russia;  one  of  Malachite,  and  the  other  of 
China.  The  breakfast  room  was  hung  with  tapestry,  and 
was  a  most  sunny,  pleasant  room. 

After  seeing  the  kitchen,  and  the  royal  plate  for  the  table, 
we  went  to  the  stables,  where  numerous  horses  were  neatly 
housed,  and  particularly  cared  for.  A  true  Arabian,  called 
AzoVy  sent  to  her  Majesty  by  the  Pasha  of  Egypt,  was  a  per- 
fect beauty.  There  were  carriages  and  sleds,  from  various 
crowned  h(;ads,  and  vast  curiosities  in  horse  decorations. 


GRISI.  67 

From  the  Great  Round  Tower,  or  Keep,  there  is  a  vic^\- 
of  unusual  loveliness.  The  Thames  is  seen,  winding  among 
towns  and  villages,  farm-houses  and  elegant  mansions.  An 
excellent  view  is  also  obtained  of  the  Castle  itself,  of  the 
parks,  the  gardens,  and  of  Windsor  forest,  once  so  famous. 
Then  there  is  the  Long  AYalk,  an  avenue  of  trees,  several 
miles  in  length.  These  trees  are  mostly  of  oak,  and  appear 
many  centuries  old. 

From  the  Terrace  there  is  likewise  an  entrancing  view. 
I  no  longer  wondered  that  her  Majesty  preferred  a  residence 
here  to  Buckingham  Palace. 

A  short  drive  brought  us  through  the  great  park  to 
beautiful  Virginia  "Water.  The  artillery  from  the  camp  of 
Cobham  were  crossing  it  upon  pontoons.  These  were  after- 
wards arranged  as  rafts  for  the  passage  of  the  foot-soldiers. 
It  was  a  scene  of  gay  and  animated  life.  The  camp  of 
Cobham  was  a  barren,  brown  plain,  with  multitudes  of  tents, 
and  soldiers  in  all  varieties  of  uniforms. 

Near  Windsor  Castle  is  "  Eton  Hall,"  long  a  celebrated 
College.  And  not  far  off  is  a  church  entirely  o'ershadowed 
by  immense  elms  and  yew  trees,  where  we  were  told  Gray 
wrote  his  "  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard."  This  elegy, 
always  touching  to  the  heart,  is  particularly  so  to  us  Ameri- 
cans, as  the  last  words  uttered  by  our  great  Webster  were 
taken  from  this  poem — 

"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

We  returned  by  the  railway  to  London,  and  joined  a 
most  charming  party  at  Virey's  in  Regent  street,  where  we 
dined ;  thence  drove  to  the  Opera  House,  to  hear  Grisi  in 
Norma. 

It  was  a  gala  night ;  for  the  Queen  was  present,  accom- 
panied  by  the   King  and   Queen  of     Hanover,  the  Crown 


OS  SOUVKNIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

Prince  and  Princess  of  Prussia.  The  boxes  were  thronged 
with  tlio  aristocracy  of  the  land — the  ladies  in  full  dress, 
.sparkling  with  jewels,  and  the  gentlemen  in  ball  costume. 
Every  portion  of  this  immense  theatre  was  filled,  and  rarely 
have  I  beheld  a  more  magnificent  spectacle. 

For  the  first  time  I  saw  Grisi.  "Were  she  not  a  singer, 
she  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  tragic  actresses  of  the 
ag<'.  Nature  seems  to  have  made  her  for  the  part  of  Norma. 
11  cr  face  is  full  of  classic  beauty,  with  wondrous  eyes,  so 
large,  so  lustrous — she  speaks  with  them.  I  thought  of  the 
words  of  the  old  Spanish  poet — 

"Lend  me  thine  eyes,  Ine«, 
That  I  may  strike  him  dead." 

A\'iien  the  truth  of  Pollio's  abandonment  first  possesses 
her  soul,  and  she  turns  upon  him  a  look  of  such  intense 
scorn,  he  absolutely  appeared  to  wither  beneath  it.  She 
was  grand  and  superb.  The  whole  house  was  electrified  by 
her  irresistible  power,  her  peerless  acting,  and  loud  ap- 
plause rang  out  again  and  again. 

In  the  opening  scene,  where  she  sings  "  Casta  Diva,"  I 
was  disappointed  in  her  voice.  There  seemed  a  veil  cast 
over  it  by  the  hand  of  Time,  which  one  would  fain  remove. 
But  when  she  became  the  loving  and  the  jealous  woman, 
when  her  proud  heart  swelled  with  the  certainty  of  her 
lover\s  faithlessness,  the  tones  of  her  voice  were  clear,  thrill- 
ing, and  delicious. 

Mario  was  admirable,  and  Castellan,  as  Adelgisa,  most 
charming.     She  has  a  delightfully  pure  and  sweet  voice. 

After  Norma  we  heard  "  Rigoletto,"  a  new  opera,  by 
Verdi.  Many  portions  of  the  music  are  exquisite.  There 
is  a  strain  of  melody  which  runs  through  it  like  a  golden 
tlircad  through  a  silken  woof.      The  opera,  in  point  of  plot, 


MARY    IIOWITT KOSSUTH.  fiO 

is  one  of  those  dark  and  painful  dramas,  leaving  a  sad  feeling 
upon  the  heart. 

July  Ibth. — We  have  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  mak- 
ing the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Mary  Howitt  and  her  daugh- 
ter. I  brought  them  a  letter  from  a  dear  American  friend, 
and  have  been  most  cordially  received.  They  reside  at 
the  Hermitage,  Highgate,  and  our  drive  there  was  very 
pleasant. 

Mary  Howitt,  as  the  friend  and  translator  of  the  works 
of  dear  Miss  Bremer,  possessed  for  me  at  our  first  meeting 
great  attraction,  and  afterwards,  for  herself,  I  truly  ad- 
mired her.  She  is  a  delightful,  frank,  genial  woman  ;  quiet 
and  graceful  in  manner,  and  exceedingly  interesting  in  con- 
versation. 

Her  daughter,  Anna  Mary,  is  a  lovely  girl,  an  authoress, 
and  an  excellent  artist.  She  has  a  sweet  lisping  voice,  and 
most  endearing  ways,  which  captivate  one  immediately. 
William  Howitt  is  in  Australia  with  his  sons. 

We  drove  to  Alpha  Road  to  visit  Kossuth.  After  much 
difiiculty  we  found  his  house,  but  he  was  absent  seeking  a 
physician,  as  Madame  Kossuth  was  dangerously  ill.  He 
seems  to  live  in  the  plainest  and  most  humble  manner. 
How  unjustly  false  were  all  those  stories  told  of  him — that  he 
had  appropriated  the  means  raised  for  the  cause  of  Hungary 
to  himself,  and  was  living  in  luxury.  All  the  money  was 
left  in  America,  with  or  in  the  hands  of  a  committee. 
Kossuth  supports  himself  and  his  family  entirely  by  the 
use  of  his  pen.  Pulzky  and  his  gifted  wife  also  live  in 
London. 

A  charming  friend  accompanied  me  this  morning  to  call 
upon  Lady  Morgan,  who,  as  the  authoress  of  the  "  Wild  Irish 
Grirl,"  had  been  long  my  especial  admiration.  We  found 
her  en  grande  toilette^  just  departing  for  a  •'  matinee  musi- 


70  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

cale.-"  She  kindly  tarried  awhile,  and  we  made  a  most 
pleasant  visit.  She  is  a  remarkable  woman,  preserving  still 
the  vivacity  of  youth. 

Last  night  we  were  again  at- the  opera  to  hear  the  same 
admirable  artists  in  "  Lucia  di  Lammermuir,"  and  thence 
to  the  mansion  of  the  Countess  of  Jersey  to  a  brilliant  ball. 
It  was  a  superb  assemblage  of  the  beautiful  and  high-born 
women  of  England. 

The  Countess  of  Jersey  has  a  noble  presence  and  most 
commanding  air.  She  is  graceful  and  elegant  in  manner 
and  gesture;  the  loveliest  of  all  here,  as  at  Buckingham 
Palace,  at  the  ball,  was  Lady  Clementina  Villars.  Her 
features  are  as  perfect  as  those  of  "  the  statue  that  doth 
enchant  the  world ;  "  and,  although  she  is  pale,  she  is  strik- 
ingly handsome. 

Even  with  the  fear  of  Mrs.  Malaprop  before  me,  I  must 
say  there  is  more  beauty  among  American  women  than  I 
have  seen  in  the  Old  World.  I  have  met  many  indeed  who 
are  of  great  loveliness,  but  generally  they  have  not  the  deli- 
cacy of  form  and  feature  seen  with  us.  Upon  entering  a 
room  in  London,  the  first  exclamation  will  be,  "  what  fine, 
robust,  healthy  women  these  are  ! "  They  seem  to  enjoy  life 
much  more  than  our  women,  and  are  capable  of  greater  ex- 
ertion in  the  pursuits  of  literature  and  of  art.  They  spend 
many  hours  in  the  open  air,  walking  and  riding,  or  driving. 
They  have  an  independent,  self-poised  manner,  which  js  ab- 
solutely delightful.  They  are  excellently  well  educated, 
and  yet  the  most  unpretentious  persons  I  ever  saw.  They 
are  always  ready  to  be  useful,  to  be  hospitable,  and  to  be 
kind. 

But  to  return  to  the  ball.  It  was  splendid.  The  snpper 
was  magnificent,  and  the  hours  passed  most  charmingly  to 


ENGLISH   WOMEN.  71 

US ;  for  we  met  numerous  pleasant  friends,  and  were  pre- 
sented to  many  distinguished  persons,  whose  names  are  his- 
toric in  England — to  many  literary  people,  whose  works  are 
as  "  household  words  "  to  us  in  the  New  World. 


C II  A  P  T  E  E     X . 

Juhj  I8th. 
We  have  just  returned  from  a  brief  visit  to  Belvoir  Castle. 
Our  sojourn  there  was  really  enchanting.     We  went  do^\^ll 
by   the     Great   Western    Kailway    to    Grantham,    passing 
through  a  finely  cultivated  country. 

At  Grantham  the  carriage  met  us,  and  we  soon  drove 
through  the  neat  little  town,  and  entered  the  "  green  lanes 
of  England."  Trees  were  planted  on  each  side  of  the  road, 
and  beneath  them  were  hedges  of  the  eglantine,  mingled 
with  jessamine  and  honeysuckle.  The  air  was  filled  with 
perfume,  as  it  came  to  us  over  the  green  hill-tops.  Hay- 
makers were  abroad  in  the  fields,  and  women  and  children 
tossing  the  hay  into  great  wagons. 

The  day  was  of  unusual  brightness.  The  sky  was  dotted 
here  and  there  with  light  fleecy  clouds,  serving  as  a  delicate 
veil  to  the  too  intense  radiance  of  the  sun.  I  realized  the 
true  and  graphic  pictures  of  English  scenery,  so  sweetly 
described  by  Wordsworth.  There  was  a  soft  serenity  about 
them,  imparting  to  the  mind  a  gentle  calmness.  For  five 
miles  we  drove  through  these  scenes  of  rural  life,  until  we 
perceived  the  turrets  of  Belvoir  Castle,  and  soon  after  came 
to  the  domains  of  the   Puke  of  TJuthmd.      Passing   through 


ENTRANCE   TO   THE   CASTLE.  73 

a  large  gate,  we  entered  a  deep  forest.  For  the  moment  we 
seemed  in  America,  for  the  forests  of  the  Adirondack  or 
of  the  Alleghany  mountains  are  not  more  wild  and  thick. 
The  old  trees,  with  their  spreading  branches,  were  like  sen- 
tinels watching  over  the  spot.  We  drove  for  some  time 
through  the  deep,  dark  woods,  and  then  emerged  in  the  fer- 
tile farm  lands  of  the  Castle.  About  mid-day  we  reached 
the  foot  of  a  very  high  hill,  upon  which  stands  Belvoir  Cas- 
tle. We  ascended  a  road  winding  along  from  terrace  to 
terrace.  The  immense  trees  met  over  head,  and  formed  a 
Gothic  arch.  At  last  we  came  out  into  the  sunlio-ht,  and 
found  ourselves  at  the  gate  of  the  Castle ;  a  noble  old  ba- 
ronial structure,  built  by  the  first  Lord  Manners  de  Ross, 
and  called  "  Belvoir,"  signifying  "  beautiful  view,"  from  the 
glorious  prospect  beheld  from  the  summit  of  the  demi-moun- 
tain.  The  first  Castle  was  built  in  1500;  the  present  one, 
however,  is  of  more  recent  date. 

From  the  great  door-way  we  passed  into  the  entrance  sa- 
loon, or  grand  vestibule,  around  which  are  figures  of  kni<^hts 
in  the  armor  worn  by  members  of  the  family  in  the  "  ancient 
times."  Upon  the  walls  are  hung  the  trophies  of  war  taken 
by  them  in  battle.  From  thence  we  were  ushered  into  the 
reception  room,  which  is  exceedingly  magnificent.  It  has 
Buhl  furniture  of  antique  form,  inlaid  with  precious  stones, 
with  gold,  with  silver  and  ivory.  The  carpet  is  like  a  bank 
of  fresh  roses.  The  ceiling,  painted  in  fresco,  has  the  portraits 
of  all  the  Rutland  family,  and  also  those  of  royal  personao-es 
who  were  friends  of  the  Duke.  In  this  room  there  is  a  paint- 
ing of  the  Duchess,  and  one  of  the  Duke,  taken  shortly  after 
their  marriage.  How  wondrously  handsome  they  both  must 
have  been  !  There  is  likewise  a  marble  statue  of  the  Duch- 
ess of  Rutland  by  Wyatt — an  exquisite  specimen  of  female 
beauty. 

"  Vol.  [—4 


74  SOUVENIRS    OF   TKAVEL. 

This  visit  to  Bel  voir  Castle  was  a  perfect  delight  to  me, 
and  with  what  happiness  did  I  follow  my  kind  friends  through 
all  the  gorgeous  rooms  and  picture-galleries.  At  last  I  beg- 
ged they  would  take  me  to  Lady  Emmeline's  apartments,  those 
occupied  by  her  when  she  makes  Belvoir  her  home ;  and  there 
I  seated  myself  to  think  of  her,  surrounded  by  the  memorials 
of  her  elegant  taste.  How  often  had  she  spoken  to  me  of 
these  rooms,  how  often  described  the  Castle  to  me ;  and  now 
I  was  within  its  walls,  but  she  was  in  the  far  north  land. 
Blessings  upon  her,  dear  and  precious  friend  ! 

Every  thing  about  the  Castle  is  grandly  superb.  Most 
gorgeous  is  the  banquet-room,  the  green  drawing-room,  the 
crimson  drawing-room,  the  Prince  Regent's  gallery,  built 
by  the  present  Duke  to  receive  George  IV.  in  when  he 
came  down  to  Belvoir  to  stand  godfather  for  the  first  Marquis 
of  Granby.  The  library  is  panelled  in  oak  and  hung  with 
green  velvet.  The  shelves  contain  many  American  books, 
among  them  the  writings  of  Longfellow,  and  of  Willis,  and 
the  speeches  of  Webster,  Clay,  and  Everett.  The  ball-room 
is  splendid,  with  rows  of  marble  pillars,  and  a  floor  made  of 
small  pieces  of  wood,  like  a  Mosaic.  A  long  gallery  extends 
around  for  those  who  do  not  care  to  mingle  in  the  dance. 
There  are  immense  mirrors,  so  arranged  as  to  reflect  and 
nmltiply  the  pillars  in  such  a  manner,  one  seems  to  look 
through  a  long  colonnade.  The  ceiling  is  gilded  and  painted 
in  fresco. 

There  are  several  picture-galleries,  filled  with  the  crea- 
tions of  the  old  masters,  and  of  those  of  the  more  modern 
school.  There  are  several  rare  and  beautiful  Murillos,  Gui- 
dos,  Correggios,  Titians,  Velasquez;  paintings  of  Sir  Joshua 
lleynolds,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  and  of  Lely;  many  land- 
scapes by  Zuccarelli,  by  Claude  Lorraine,  by  Poussin  ;  and 
gorgeous  pictures  by  Rembrandt,  by  Rubens,  and  Van  Dyke 


75 

One  gallery  is  devoted  to  the  full-length  portraits  of  the 
lords,  earls,  and  dukes  of  the  family. 

The  apartments  occupied  by  Queen  Victoria  and  Prince 
Albert,  when  they  visited  the  Castle,  are  magnificent.  The 
furniture  is  satin,  embroidered  with  gold,  and  the  hangings  of 
the  chambers  white  satin,  decorated  with  heavy  gold  fringe. 
The  bedroom  occupied  by  George  IV.  when  he  visited  tne 
Castle,  remains  furnished  in  the  same  style  as  then.  It  is 
very  gorgeous. 

At  evening  we  ascended  the  turrets  of  the  Castle.  The 
view  thence  was  most  beautiful.  Twenty-seven  villages  were 
visible  amid  the  rich  waving  fields  of  grain  and  wooded 
slopes  of  the  hills.  One  town  was  pointed  out  to  me,  called 
"  Walton."  Our  ancestors  came  from  Middle  England,  and 
perhaps  from  this  very  region.  Of  course  I  looked  upon  it 
with  deep  interest.  It  is  a  fine  picturesque  village  ;  with  a 
population  of  five  thousand  inhabitants. 

The  hill  upon  which  the  Castle  stands  is  terraced  on  every 
side  save  one,  about  a  hundred  feet.  Then  begins  the  forest, 
extending  like  a  sea  of  green  far  below  its  base. 

In  the  morning  we  drove  to  the  village  of  Woodstock, 
where  the  tenants  live.  It  was  "  Rent-Day,"  and  multitudes 
of  them  were  gathered  in  merry  groups  under  the  trees. 
They  were  dancing,  and  playing  many  games.  The  girls  had 
the  most  lovely  complexions  and  rosy  health.  The  men  were 
tall,  strong,  and  stalwart.  They  seemed  the  very  "  bone  and 
sinew  of  the  land."  The  old  men  and  women  were  seated 
beneath  the  elms,  watching  the  sports  of  their  children's 
children.  It  was  a  charming  picture  of  rural  life — there  ap- 
peared such  happiness,  contentment,  and  plenty.  The  houses 
were  all  neat  and  comfortably  furnished,  each  one  with  its 
little  garden  around  it,  while  the  honeysuckle  and  rose- vines 
climbed  up  over  the  "  front  porch."     The   people   of  these 


76  60UVENIES    OF   TRAVEL. 

agricultural  counties  are  evidently  a  more  happy  race  than 
those  who  inhabit  the  cities  or  the  manufacturing  districts. 
An  honest  old  farmer  took  us  through  his  farm,  and  through 
the  house,  and  into  the  kitchen,  to  show  us  the  mode  of  life 
of  an  English  peasant. 

We  were  much  interested  by  a  visit  to  the  private  apart- 
ments of  the  Duchess  of  Rutland.  She  has  been  dead 
twenty-seven  years ;  still  her  memory  is  fondly  cherished  by 
the  Puke  and  by  her  children.  The  rooms  remain  just  as 
they  were  when  death  claimed  her.  One  old  servant  has 
charge  of  them.  They  are  a  kind  of  Mecca  to  her  children, 
and  her  husband  never  fails  to  visit  them  on  the  anniversary 
of  her  death.  How  sweet  is  this  cherished  memory  of  the 
"  loved  and  lost !  "  A  solemn  feeling  crept  over  my  heart, 
as  I  stood  by  the  bed  upon  which  she  slept  her  last  sleep  of 
life,  and  looked  upon  the  Bible,  opened  where  she  had  read 
her  last  chapter.  In  every  portion  of  the  Castle  we  saw 
pictures  and  busts  of  her.  She  was  not  only  beautiful,  but 
gifted  as  a  painter,  a  sculptor,  and  a  poetess. 

The  mausoleum  where  the  Duchess  is  buried,  is  on  a  hill 
in  front  of  the  Custle.  We  passed  through  a  deep  forest  to 
reach  it.  The  mausoleum  is  of  Gothic  form,  without  win- 
dows. At  one  end  is  the  statue  of  the  Duchess,  enveloped 
in  light  drapery,  with  the  hands  raised,  the  face  beaming 
with  holy  joy,  and  the  form  springing,  as  it  were,  lieaven- 
ward.  Above  the  statue,  resting  amid  the  clouds,  are  her 
four  angel-children,  holding  forth  their  hands  to  welcome  the 
mother.  One  holds  a  crown,  which  is  just  near  her  brow. 
The  light  comes  from  above,  and  through  rose-colored,  or 
some  other  warm-tinted  glass,  giving  the  figures  the  look  of 
life.  It  is  indescribably  beautiful,  and  so  touching,  tears  came 
to  my  eyes  as  I  looked  upon  them.  The  design  of  this 
"  temple  of  the  dead,"  was  found  among  the  papers  of  the 


77 

Duchess,  and  the  Duke  at  once  had  it  built  precisely  after 
the  original  drawing.  In  front  of  the  building  is  a  grove  of 
ancient  yew  trees,  supposed  to  have  been  planted  long  ere  the 
family  possessed  these  lands.  The  trees  are  of  enormous  size, 
and  are  absolutely  gray  with  age. 

From  the  mausoleum  we  passed  on  to  the  "  Duke's 
Walk," — a  long  avenue  or  lofty  corridor  cut  through  the 
trees  of  the  forest,  extending  three  or  four  miles.  Not  a 
sunbeam  can  penetrate  the  deep  shade.  The  most  delicious 
coolness  pervades  these  green  arcades,  and  it  was  really  an 
effort  to  leave  them. 

Belvoir  Castle  is  one  of  the  grandest  of  the  princely 
residences  of  England,  and  I  shall  never  forget  my  brief 
sojourn  there ;  or  the  kindness,  the  cordiality,  and  genial 
greeting  of  the  Rutland  family.  I  deeply  regretted  I  could 
not  accept  the  invitation  to  pass  the  autumn  months  in  the 
Castle,  when  there  is  a  gay  and  distinguished  company 
assembled. 

When  we  returned  to  London  from  Belvoir,  we  found  a 
friend  from  our  far-away  home  awaiting  us.  Oh  !  how  our 
hearts  and  thoughts  flew  back  over  the  vast  Atlantic,  to  that 
dear  spot  of  earth,  where  dwell  the  loved  ones  !  All  was 
forgotten  in  the  delightful  emotions  awakened  by  the  spell- 
like charm  of  Home,  and  of  our  own  country. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

July  I9th. 
Last  uijrht  we  attended  the  "  conversazione  "  of  the  Lord 
and  Lady  Mayoress,  at  the  Mansion  House,  in  the  midst  of 
the  old  city  of  London.  These  parties  are  given  several  times 
during  the  year,  and  all  the  notabilities,  foreign  and  native- 
born,  are  invited.  The  assemblage  was  aristocratic,  demo- 
cratic, artistic,  and  literary.  The  Lord  Mayor  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  reception-room,  while  a  person  in  splendid  uni- 
form announced  the  names  of  the  guests  as  they  approached. 
The  Lord  Mayor  shook  them  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  pre- 
sented them  to  the  Lady  Mayoress.  It  reminded  me  very 
much  of  the  levees  at  the  President's  House  in  Washington. 
We  lingered  for  a  time  near  the  host  and  hostess,  to 
watch  the  entree  of  the  guests.  There  were  many  thousands 
present,  and  of  course  among  them  distinguished  and  famous 
personages.  Our  excellent  friends,  the  Bennochs  and  Cros- 
lands,  introduced  us  to  numerous  literary  and  artistic  per- 
sons, with  whom  we  were  really  delighted.  Martin  F.  Tup- 
per  we  found  a  most  pleasant,  charming  man.  He  spoke 
with  great  appreciation  of  America,  where  he  had  passed 
some  months.  The  handsome  young  Oriental,  llisk  Allah, 
the  Secretary  of  tlie  Turkish  Embassy,  received  much  attcn- 


DISTINGUISHED    WRITERS.  79 

tion.  As  he  speaks  English,  he  seemed  a  wonderful  favorite 
with  the  gentler  sex,  whom  he  evidently  magnetized  by  the 
glances  of  his  lustrous  and  eloquent  eyes.  Albert  Smith 
was  full  of  jest  and  merriment ;  a  laughing  throng  were  al- 
ways around  him.  Then  there  was  Cruikshank,  a  queer, 
wild-looking  person,  with  a  nervous,  quick  manner,  and  most 
mirth-provoking  words.  Miss  Pardoe  and  Miss  Strickland 
were  standing  together,  when  we  were  presented  to  them.  I 
could  but  think  their  faces  and  forms  were  types  of  their 
writings.  Miss  Pardoe  is  fresh,  bright-eyed,  merry  and 
talkative.  Miss  Strickland  is  tall,  formal,  and  stately,  but 
with  an  earnest  and  kind  manner.  I  was  charmed  with 
Mackay,  the  "  Poet  of  the  People."  He  has  a  fine  face, 
lighted  up  with  noble  emotions  of  the  soul. 

Many  foreign  Ministers  were  present ;  among  the  most 
conspicuous  were  the  Turkish  Ambassador  and  the  Greek 
Ambassador,  in  their  beautiful  costumes ;  the  Bishops  of 
Salisbury  and  St.  David's,  and  several  high  dignitaries  of 
the  law.  Many  of  the  leading  men  of  England,  Earl  Grrey, 
Duke  of  Newcastle,  Sir  Charles  \Yood,  Mr.  Joseph  Hume, 
and  D'Israeli.  The  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  most  superbly 
attired,  accompanied  by  her  son-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Argyll, 
attracted  much  admiration.  There  were,  besides,  many 
elegant  w.omen  of  the  aristocracy. 

Among  the  distinguished  painters  were  Sir  Charles 
Eastlake,  Sir  Edward  Landseer,  and  Martin  ;  Freiligrath,  the 
German  poet,  whom  I  had  met  before,  and  Dr.  Kinkel,  the 
German  patriot ;  then  Harrison  Ainsworth  and  Jordan,  Dr. 
Bowring,  the  indomitable  traveller,  and  Monckton  Milnes, 
the  poet  and  Member  of  Parliament — he  has  a  beautiful 
forehead,  and  most  expressive  eyes  ;  Tennyson,  too,  with  his 
poetic  face,  over  which  lingers  a  soft  shade  of  sadness ;  Dr. 
Southwood  Smith,  the  philanthropist,  who  has  done  so  much 


80  60UVKNIHS    UF    TKAVEL. 

to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  poor  of  London;  Sir 
George  Head,  author  of  the  capital  book,  "  A  Bundle  of 
French  Faggots,"  and  Mrs.  Cowden  Clarke,  -whose  work 
upon  Shak.><peare  is  so  much  valued.  Earl  de  Grey  wore 
the  blue  ribbon  and  the  garter  at  the  knee.  Spohr,  the  com- 
poser, was  one  of  the  guests,  and  Sir  Peter  Laurie  and  Doug- 
lass Jerrold. 

In  truth,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  enumerate  all  the  ce- 
lebrities. Mr.  Wire,  (one  of  the  Aldermen,)  a  most  agree- 
able person,  became  kindly  my  cicerone,  and  guided  me 
through  the  numerous  rooms,  pointing  out  the  valuable  paint- 
ings of  Maclise  and  other  artists.  The  Egyptian  Hall  is  a 
magnificent  room,  with  columns  of  white  and  gold,  adorned 
with  many  fine  statues.  In  this  room  the  Band  of  the  Cold- 
stream Guard  was  playing.  Above  stairs,  the  educational 
models  filled  a  suite  of  rooms,  and  here  were  the  works  of  the 
pu})ils  who  are  receiving  instruction  in  the  "  Schools  for  the 
Blind."  Many  of  the  pupils  were  present ;  they  sang  several 
coiicorted  pieces,  feeling  the  notes  with  their  fingers.  There 
were  supper  rooms  well  served  ;  there  was  dancing,  too,  but 
conversation  was  the  chief  amusement  of  the  evening. 

I  was  happy  again  to  meet  the  Halls,  and  Mrs.  Howitt, 
who  mentioned  that  she  was  translating  Miss  Bremer's  new 
book,  "  Homes  in  the  New  World." 

We  were  delighted  with  the  "  conversazione,"  though  re- 
gret was  mingled  with  our  pleasure,  for  our  farewell  was 
spoken  to  the  dear  friends  who  liave  made  London  so  en- 
rapturing. Most  kindly  did  they  greet  us,  not  as  strangers, 
or  as  those  commended  to  their  civility,  but  with  a  warm, 
generous,  frank  friendliness,  which  won  our  gratitude,  while 
it  captivated  our  hearts.  At  this  parting  hour,  earnestly  do 
we  exclaim,  "  Blessings  upon  our  Mother-Land."  "  The 
bright  stars  were   fading"   before   tiie  liglit  of  day,  ere  we 


FAREWELL   TO    LONDON.  81 

reached  Portman  Square,  and  little  time  had  we  for  rest,  for 
at  ten  o'clock  we  were  to  leave  England.  Our  noble  friend 
who  first  welcomed  me  to  the  Old  World,  came  even  at  that 
earlj  hour  to  say,  "  God  bless  you." 

The  trunks  are  packed — the  carriage  is  at  the  door my 

last  words  of  England  are  written — and  we  must  away  to 
other  scenes.     But  none  can  ever  be  more  dear,  more  pre- 
cious to   my  soul,  than  those  which  have  filled   the  happy 
hours  of  my  sojourn  in  delightful  London. 
Vol.  I.— 4* 


CHAPTER    Xll. 

The  railway  from  London  to  Dover  passes  within  full  view 
of  Sydenham  Crystal  Palace.  This  building  is  of  immense 
size,  many  hundred  feet  larger  than  the  original  in  Hyde 
Park.  It  is  upon  the  summit  of  a  hill,  and  the  grounds  are 
to  be  terraced,  forming  hanging  gardens,  like  those  of  Baby- 
lon. It  was  like  a  great  mountain  of  glass,  and  all  the  sun- 
light of  England  seemed  glittering  upon  its  roof,  concentrated 
there  by  some  giant  lens. 

At  Dover  we  tarried  some  hours,  and  visited  the  castle, 
overlooking  the  town.  From  the  turrets,  there  is  an  exten- 
sive prospect  over  land  and  sea ;  the  Chalk  cliffs  loom  up 
like  great  spectres,  and  the  "  Downs  of  Dover  "  (famed  for 
their  mutton)  stretch  far  away  in  the  dim  distance.  A 
blue  cloud  resting  as  it  were  upon  the  waters,  they  told  me, 
was  the  shores  of  France. 

Dover  is  not  an  inviting-looking  town,  though  it  is  quite 
large.  We  dined  at  the  "  King's  Head,"  and  soon  after 
went  on  board  the  steamer ;  the  wind  was  strong  and  cold  : 
thus  we  were  forced  to  seek  the  cabin,  which  was  about  the 
length  and  breadth  of  a  good-sized  dinner-table.  Upon  two 
settees  we  threw  ourselves,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  little 
steamer  was  rolling,  rocking,  tumbling,  and  pitching  into  the 
sea.     0  !  what  hours  of  anguish,  and  of  inexpressible  torture 


ARRIVAL    IN    PARIS.  83 

were  those!  Women  mournmg — children  screaming — men 
groaning.  All  calling  for  "  aid  and  comfort "  from  the 
wretched  steward,  who  rushed  "  hither  and  thither,"  in  voice- 
less despair.  At  last,  the  long  and  horrible  hours  ended  in 
daylight  and  Calais.  With  feeble  steps  we  walked  up  to  the 
station  house,  had  our  luggage  ''  visited,"  drank  an  excellent 
cup  of  coffee,  seated  ourselves  in  a  well-cushioned  and  neat 
railway  carriage,  and  were  soon  away  to  Paris. 

When  the  mists  of  the  morning  gave  place  to  the  sun- 
light, I  was  struck  with  its  wonderful  radiance.  It  was  pain, 
ful  at  first  to  the  eyes.  There  was  not,  as  in  England,  a 
light  fleecy  veil  of  clouds  to  soften  its  intensity.  The  country 
was  not  beautiful,  the  houses  were  small,  the  trees  of  diminu- 
tive growth,  and  planted  in  a  formal  manner  around  the 
fields.  There  were  no  fences,  and  but  few  hedges.  The 
grass  had  not  the  rich  green  hue  so  remarkable  in  the  "Sea- 
girt Isle."  But  here,  as  every  where  in  England,  I  saw  the 
corn  poppies,  called  by  the  French  coquelicot.  All  the 
fields  are  covered  with  them,  and  for  miles  along  the  railway 
they  grow  so  thickly,  as  to  seem  like  a  broad  red  ribbon. 
They  are  of  a  dazzlingly  bright  crimson,  and  give  a  cheerful 
look  to  even  a  barren  waste.  As  we  rushed  along  by  acres 
of  these  glowing  flowers,  we  often  quoted  the  lines  of  Burns, 

*'  Pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread  ; 
You  seize  the  flower, — its  bloom  is  shed." 

At  the  stations  I  often  gathered  them,  but  at  the  slight- 
est touch  the  beautiful  petals  fell  to  the  earth. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  domes  and  spires  of  Paris  were  visi- 
ble, and  the  great  wind-mills  upon  Monimarire.  Then  we 
entered  an  immense  hall,  roofed  with  glass,  and  were  com- 
manded to  remain  without  the  railway,  while  our  trunks  were 


84  SOUVENIRS    OF    TKAVKL. 

opened  and  examined.  They  were  shut  down,  and  we  were 
permitted  to  depart. 

The  environs  of  Paris  reminded  me  much  of  some  of  the 
Faubourgs  of  New  Orleans.  We  drove  to  i\\Q  Huiel  Meurice, 
Rue  Bivoli,  just  fronting  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries.  We 
found  pleasant  rooms  prepared  for  us,  and  most  comfortable 
beds.  I  cast  myself  upon  one,  soft  and  yielding,  with  a  sen- 
sation of  delight,  and  my  weary  limbs  lay  softly  in  sweet  re- 
pose, while  my  spirit  wandered  off  into  dream-land,  there  to 
meet  the  loved  ones  of  home. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  awoke.  We  were 
dressed  just  in  time  for  the  most  appetizing  dinner  at  the 
table  d'hote  of  the  hotel.  As  soon  as  we  had  finished  our 
cofi'ee,  we  joined  a  party  of  agreeable  Americans,  and  drove 
up  the  Boulevards  to  the  "  Gymuase  "  to  see  the  Spanish 
Dancers  from  Madrid,  who  are  just  now  making  a  furore  in 
Paris.  Petra  Camera  is  very  wonderful  for  her  agility.  She 
rushed  upon  the  stage  like  a  wild  bacchante,  throwing  her- 
self in  the  most  peculiar  attitudes,  one  foot  often  higher  than 
her  head,  and  then  bending  back,  until  her  head  and  feet 
seemed  meeting.  Then  in  came  a  throng  with  castanets, 
making  most  strange  contortions  and  twistings  of  the  form, 
quite  worthy  of  an  Eastern  juggler.  The  applause  was  rap- 
turous, but  I  must  confess,  grace  was  lacking  in  their  move- 
ments. The  play  was  "  Love  at  Twenty,"  and  most  admira- 
bly acted  by  Rose  Cheri.  All  the  appointments  of  the  stage 
were  perfect,  and  the  performers  seemed  ignorant  of  the 
presence  of  the  audience.  They  acted^as  though  they  were 
in  a  parlor.  The  theatre  is  small,  but  well  arranged.  A 
balcony  runs  around  the  front  of  the  boxes.  The  women  all 
wore  bonnets,  and  were  not  very  stylish  in  their  appearance. 

By  one  o'clock  we  were  again  in  our  parlor,  and  thus 
ended  our  first  day  in  Paris. 


RAILWAY   TO    VERSAILLES.  85 

Sunday  Night. — Seeing  in  the  morning  journal  an 
announcement  that  the  "  waters  would  play  "  at  Versailles, 
we  determined  to  go  thither.  It  was  an  exquisite  morning, 
and  thousands  in  their  holiday  garb  were  hastening  to  the 
station.  We  seated  ourselves  in  the  car,  and  soon  came  in  a 
party  of  the  hourgeoise.  They  were  a  merry  set,  and  it  was 
really  diverting  to  hear  them  relate  the  incidents  of  the  pre- 
ceding fete :  they  seemed  so  full  of  enjoyment  and  life. 
Had  they  been  princesses,  they  could  not  have  appeared  more 
content. 

Soon  after  we  left  Paris  we  saw  the  vinohles  or  vineyards. 
The  vines  are  all  tied  to  sticks,  and  are  not  permitted  to 
grow  more  than  two  or  three  feet  high.  The  railway  passes 
along  an  embankment,  and  thence  the  view  was  very  extend- 
ed, and  most  charming.  One  of  our  travelling  companions 
pointed  out  the  deep  ravine  (through  which  passes  the  rail- 
way) where  so  many  persons  perished  by  burning  a  few  years 
ago,  in  consequence  of  the  doors  of  the  carriages  all  being 
locked.  This  custom  is  very  general  throughout  Europe.  It 
had  been  a  fete  day  at  Versailles,  and  multitudes  were  return- 
ing to  Paris.  The  fire  burst  out  in  the  foremost  car,  and 
soon  burnt  the  connecting  link  between  that  and  the  locomo- 
tive, which  dashed  on  to  the  station,  leaving  the  long  train  of 
passenger  cars  in  this  ravine  (cut  through  an  immense  hill). 
The  persons  within  the  carriages  could  not  escape,  for  the 
doors  were  all  locked,  and  they  thus  lost  their  lives  in  the 
most  frightful  manner.  Admiral  d'Urville,  and  many  high 
dignitaries  ot  the  land,  women,  children,  and  valuable  citizens 
were  destroyed  in  the  cars. 

At  Versailles  we  left  the  railway.  This  city  once  had  a 
population  of  one  hundred  thousand  people.  In  the  days  of 
Louis  XIV.  it  was  in  its  full  splendor.  Now  there  are  only 
thirty  thousand  inhabitants.     As  we  entered  the  court  of  the 


86  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVKL. 

palace,  we  read  in  large  golden  letters,  upon  the  frieze  of  the 
imposing  building,  "^  ioutes  les  gloires  de  la  France^ 
This  inscription  was  placed  there  by  Louis  Philippe,  who 
restored  Versailles  to  its  former  glory.  Louis  XIII.  first 
built  at  Versailles  a  hunting  lodge,  which  Louis  XIV.  con- 
verted into  a  palace  in  1660.  To  the  architect  Levan,  he 
gave  the  execution  of  his  design,  while  to  Le  Notre  he  en- 
trusted the  arrangement  of  the  gardens  and  parks.  Miles  of 
land  were  purchased,  and  thousands  and  thousands  of  soldiers, 
(when  not  engaged  in  warfare,)  were  employed  in  making  ter- 
races. The  cost  of  these  improvements  was  said  to  have 
equalled  two  hundred  millions  of  dollars.  It  is  therefore  no 
wonder  that  a  palace, .  gorgeous  as  the  descriptions  of  the 
Arabian  Nights,  should  have  risen  up  at  the  summons  of  the 
enchanter's  wand — for  gold  is  the  enchanter's  wand  of  real  life. 
We  passed  through  the  basement  of  the  palace  and  went 
into  the  gardens,  whence  the  vastness  of  the  immense  edifice 
is  fully  realized.  The  centre  building  has  a  facade  of  three 
hundred  feet,  while  each  wing  is  six  hundred  in  length,  thus 
presenting  a  front  of  almost  two  thousand  feet,  decorated  with 
Ionic  pilasters,  and  multitudes  of  allegorical  statues  of  the 
months,  the  seasons,  of  the  arts,  and  of  the  sciences.  Each 
parterre  of  the  flower-garden  is  encased  in  white  marble, 
which  forms  a  lovely  contrast  to  the  bright  hues  of  the  flow- 
ers. The  noble  trees  of  the  parks  are  left  to  the  grace  of 
nature.  They  are,  however,  all  surrounded  by  high  hedges. 
Immense  avenues  are  formed  by  giant  trees,  the  branches 
meeting  overhead,  and  dipt  Avithin,  until  they  make  glorious 
Gothic  arches.  Just  in  front  of  the  palace  is  a  great  basin, 
whence  arise  shining  columns  of  water.  The  basin  of  Nep- 
tune is  the  finest  of  all  the  fountains.  There  are  vases  around 
its  edge,  and  in  the  centre  Neptune  and  Amphitrite,  seated 
in  a  shell,  while  sea  monsters,  nymphs,  and  tritons,  encircle 


THE    GREAT    WATERS    PLAY.  87 

them.     In  the  basin  of  Apollo,  the  god  of  day  is  seen  rising 
from  the  waters  in  a  chariot,  drawn  by  four  horses.     Apollo 
is  again  presented  in  a  cool  grove,  where  he  comes  to  repose 
in  the  arms  of  the  goddess  Thetis.     The  nymphs  are  exqui- 
sitely sculptured.     They  encircle  the  god,  some  braiding  his 
hair,  and  others  offering  him  perfumes.     Near  this  group  are 
the  horses  of  the  sun,  watered  by  the  tritons.     They  are  all 
of  white  marble,  and  of  rare  excellence.     They  stand  near  an 
enormous  rock,  in  the  depths  of  a  grove,  and  as  we  were 
looking  upon  them,  the  water  came  rushing  down  the  rock  in 
sheets  of  foam,  and  formed  a  little  lake  at  the  foot.     The 
effect  was  startling  and  delightful.     In  a  few  moments  we 
heard  the  cry,  "  the  great  waters  are  going  to  play,"  so  we 
ran  back  to  the  terrace  fronting  the  palace,  and  seated  our- 
selves upon  a  balustrade,  where  we  watched  the  play  of  the 
fountains.     It  was  a  sight  of  rare  and  strange  beauty,  and 
seemed  to  me  like  an  enormous  picture,  set  in  a  green  frame. 
There  were  columns  of  every  size  rising  from  the  basins,  and 
falling  in  feathery  spray.       Touched  by  the  sunlight,  each 
drop  had  the  semblance  of  a  diamond,  or  an  emerald,  or  a 
ruby.     As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  the  waters  were  rush- 
ing upward  from  the  basins,  or  pouring  down  over  ledges  of 
rock,  or  from  the  mouths  of  sea  monsters,  or  falling  in  snowy 
foam  over  lovely  groups  of  sea  nymphs.     Often  I  turned 
from  the  fountains  to  look  upon  the  happy,  homely  faces  of 
the  thousands  who  had  gathered  to  see  "  the  waters  play;" 
their  look  of  intense  delight  and  their  expression  of  admira- 
tion were  so  heart-felt.     The  expense  of  bringing  the  water 
to  the  fountains  is  so  enormous,  they  only  play  a  few  times 
during   the  summer,  and  then  it  is  a  great  fete  day,  and 
merry  crowds  hasten  to  pass  all  the  day  within  the  gardens, 
or  in  wandering  about  the  palace. 

After  walking  for  several  hours  in  the  grounds  and  parks, 


88  SOUVENIRS  oy  travel. 

every  where  adorned  with  statues  and  colossal  figures,  rep- 
resenting the  kings  and  queens  of  France,  we  entered  the 
palace.  The  magnificence  of  the  interior  is  inconceivable; 
the  ceilings  are  carved  and  gilded,  or  superbly  painted  in 
fresco ;  the  galleries  are  filled  with  statues,  with  busts,  with 
portraits,  and  with  historical  paintings.  All  the  battle  scenes, 
from  Clovis  to  the  war  of  Algeria,  are  here  portrayed  upon 
miles  of  canvas.  Never  was  I  more  convinced  of  the  wis- 
dom of  the  kings  of  France  in  consecrating  their  triumphs 
by  magnificent  pictures,  than  when  I  looked  upon  the  people 
standing  before  them,  and  viewing  with  exultation  the  his- 
tory of  their  glory.  Thus  has  the  love  of  war  become  the 
leading  passion  of  the  French  nation. 

In  long  galleries  are  paintings  illustrative  of  the  histori- 
cal events  of  every  reign.  Battles  upon  land  and  on  the  sea ; 
all  the  victories  of  the  Republic ;  all  the  campaigns  of  Napo- 
leon;  the  revolution  of  1830;  in  truth,  every  great  event 
of  French  history.  Then  there  are  the  portraits  or  busts  of  all 
the  great  men  of  France,  both  of  the  good  and  of  the  bad. 

There  are  numerous  rooms  named  from  the  frescoes  on 
the  ceiling,  or  from  paintings  on  the  walls.  In  the  "  Saloon 
of  Venus  "  is  a  lovely  group  of  the  Three  Graces,  by  Pra- 
dier ;  in  that  of  "  Diana,"  a  portrait  of  Marie  Therese,  of 
Austria  ;  and  thus  in  each  room  are  wonderful  works  of  art 
and  trophies  of  the  past.  The  "  Grallerie  des  Glaces  "  is  said 
to  be  the  finest  in  the  world.  It  has  numerous  large  arched 
windows,  and  opposite  to  each  is  a  great  mirror.  There  are 
Corinthian  pilasters  of  red  marble,  with  the  base  and  the 
capitals  of  gilt  bronze.  The  ceiling  was  painted  by  Le  Brun, 
and  represents  the  events  during  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV. 
The  bed-chamber  of  Louis  is  also  a  splendid  room.  The 
ceiling  is  decorated  with  the  "  Titans"  of  Paul  Veronese, 
which  Napoleon  brought  from   Venice.     The  bed  in  which 


MARIE   ANTOINETTE.  89 

the  king  died  is  still  there.  It  has  never  been  occupied  since 
that  time. 

We  passed  on  from  room  to  room  until  we  came  to  the 
"  apartments  of  Marie  Antoinette^  Here  I  seemed  en- 
circled by  a  spell  of  magic  power,  and  lingered  long  within 
them.  The  furniture  is  gilt,  covered  with  brocade  or  ta- 
pestry ;  the  tables  are  of  buhl,  and  mosaic  of  marble.  The 
guide,  perceiving  the  interest  I  manifested,  showed  me  every 
relic  still  existing  of  the  heroic  and  unfortunate  queen.  The 
spot  was  pointed  out  to  us  where  she  stood  when  the  Revo- 
lutionists surrounded  the  palace,  and  when  she  showed  her- 
self to  them,  disarming  the  infuriated  mob  by  the  dignity 
and  grace  of  her  bearing.  It  was  there,  too,  La  Fayette 
kissed  her  hand  to  testify  his  loyalty  and  devotion.  Her 
saloon,  or  card- room,  is  exquisitely  painted  in  fresco  by  Le 
Brun.  From  this  opens  the  sleeping-room  of  the  hapless 
queen,  whence  she  escaped  October  6th,  1789,  when  the 
rabble  forced  open  the  palace  doors.  In  these  rooms  are 
pictures  of  Mme.  Pompadour,  of  Mme.  Main  tenon,  of  Mme. 
Montespan,  and  of  Mme.  Du  Barri.  From  these  apartments 
we  came  to  the  "  Staircase  of  Marble,"  very  famous  in 
France ;  it  is  composed  of  marble  of  various  colors.  Thence 
we  entered  the  "  Salle  du  Sacre,"  containing  the  paintings  of 
David,  "  The  Coronation  of  Napoleon,"  and  the  "  Distribu- 
tion of  the  Eagles."  These  are  most  wonderful  and  eloquent 
pictures ;  the  portrait  of  Josephine  in  the  "  Coronation"  is 
beautiful.  In  the  Gallerie  des  JBaiailles,  amid  paintings 
of  immense  size,  is  one  representing  Rochambeau  and  Wash- 
ington before  Yorktown.  Thus,  in  the  palaces  of  kings,  has 
our  great  and  good  Washington  an  historic  place  ;  the  picture 
is  an  admirable  one.  Many  of  the  paintings  are  by  Vernet, 
Paul  Delaroche,  David,  and  Gerard. 

We  spent  many  hours  in  the  palace,  and  again  returned 


DO  SOUVENIRS    OJ^   TRAVEL. 

to  the  green  arcades  of  the  Park,  aud  wandered  amid  the 
flower-gardens.  From  the  Camp  of  Tartary  near  by  there 
were  thousands  of  soldiers,  accompanied  by  their  "  Vivan- 
dieres,"  or  soldier-women,  dressed  in  a  perfect  Bloomer  dress. 
Then  there  were  multitudes  of  persons  from  the  Provinces 
in  their  national  costumes.  The  evening  was  delightful,  and 
the  throng  seemed  increased  during  the  hours  we  spent  in 
the  palace.  Every  one  appeared  so  happy ;  the  children  were 
rolling  on  the  grass,  and  screaming  with  delight,  while  the 
parents  laughed  merrily  at  their  sports. 

Amid  hundreds  of  orange  trees,  we  were  pointed  out  the 
"  Historical  Tree ;  "  it  was  planted  1421,  in  the  time  of 
Frant^ois  Premier j  and  has  flourished  under  twelve  reigns ; 
the  branches  have  rings  of  iron  around  them  to  sustain  theii 
weight. 

At  the  end  of  the  Park  of  Versailles,  is  Le  Grand  Tria- 
non, once  occupied  by  Madame  Maintenon ;  it  is  only  one 
story,  in  the  style  of  an  Italian  villa.  There  are  many  fine 
paintings  and  objects  of  vertu,  and  lovely  gardens.  Le  Pe- 
tit Trianon  is  a  kind  of  pavilion,  decorated  with  fluted  col- 
umns ;  the  garden  is  exquisite,  and  on  the  banks  of  a  little 
lake  is  a  Swiss  cottage,  which  Marie  Antoinette  caused  to  be 
built.  She  was  exceedingly  fon(f  of  the  retirement  of  these 
beautiful  grounds,  filled  with  rare  plants  and  noble  trees. 

It  is  to  Louis  Philippe  that  France  is  indebted  for  the  res- 
toration of  these  palaces  to  their  original  splendor.  In  one 
of  the  corridors,  or  statue  galleries,  is  the  sculptured  form 
of  Jean  d'Arc,  the  "  Maid  of  Orleans."  It  was  the  work  of 
the  Princess  Marie,  daughter  of  Louis  Philippe.  It  is  an 
exquisite  figure ;  the  head  leans  forward,  as  though  the  heart 
were  oppressed  by  the  breastplate ;  the  face  is  noble,  and  the 
utmost  i>urity,  repose,  and  determination,  are  mingled  in  the 
expression:  there  were  also   several   portraits  of  her.     The 


KETURN    TO    PARIS.  91 

gallery  of  Louis  Philippe  contains  the  history  of  the  revolu- 
tion of  July  in  immense  pictures. 

I  could  not  tear  myself  away  from  "  The  Enchanted 
Gardens,"  until  night  came  and  shut  them  from  my  view ; 
then  T  consented  to  return  to  Paris. 

AYe  have  just  taken  our  first  promenade  in  the  "Imperial 
City."  We  passed  down  the  Rue  Gastiglioyie  into  the 
Place  Yendome,  a  great  square  paved  with  flat  stones,  and 
surrounded  with  handsome  buildings.  In  the  centre  is  the 
"  Column  of  Napoleon ;  "  it  is  of  great  height,  and  upon  the 
top  is  the  statue  of  the  immortal  Corsican.  The  figure  is  of 
bronze ;  the  costume,  a  military  overcoat  and  cocked  hat : 
the  attitude  is  very  natural.  The  column  was  built  by  the 
orders  of  the  emperor,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  his  cam- 
paigns in  Germany,  and  bears  the  inscription,  "  Monument 
erected  to  the  glory  of  the  Grand  Army  hy  Napoleon  the 
Great?''  From  the  pedestal  to  the  summit  it  is  covered 
with  has  reliefs^  in  bronze,  made  from  the  twelve  hundred 
cannon  taken  in  the  campaigns  in  Russia  and  Austria ;  they 
represent  all  the  battles  from  the  first  to  that  of  Austerlitz. 
There  is  a  stairway  within  the  column,  and  near  the  top  is  a 
balustrade,  whence  a  splendid  view  of  the  city  is  obtained. 
An  old  soldier  walked  in  front  to  and  fro.  There  is  a  railing 
around  and  upon  it,  and  at  the  door  of  entrance  are  hung 
hundreds  of  wreaths  of  immortelles^  and  bouquets  of  flowers, 
thus  showing  the  undying  adoration  for  the  most  wonderful 
of  men,  save  our  own  Washington. 

From  the  Place  Yendome  we  walked  through  the  elegant 
street  of  i^a  Faix^  thence  into  the  Boulevards.  The  Boule- 
vards are  a  great  feature  in  Parisian  life ;  the  bulwarks  or 
ramparts  of  the  city  once  occupied  these  streets.  When 
Paris  ceased  to  be  a  fortified  city  in  the  times  of  Louis  XI Y. 
the  walls  were   hurled  down,  and   the  ditches  filled  up  and 


92  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

planted  with  trees.  They  run  nearly  round  the  city,  bearing 
different  names  at  various  points.  The  street  is  immensely 
wide,  with  a  broad  pavement,  and  beyond  that  rows  of  trees. 
It  may  well  be  said  the  Boulevards  are  "  the  heart  of  Paris." 
The  most  fashionable  is  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens.  There 
one  sees  magnificent  houses  and  dazzlingly  decorated  shops, 
gorgeously  embellished  restaurants  and  cafes.  Upon  the 
pavement,  or  side  walk,  were  seated  hundreds  of  persons, 
talking  and  drinking  eau  sucree,  or  coffee.  The  street  was 
thronged  with  carriages,  and  a  regiment  of  soldiers  were 
marching  through  it.  All  was  life  and  enjoyment,  mingled 
so  charmingly,  I  could  have  tarried  there  for  hours.  The 
Boulevards  are  especially  chosen  for  shops  and  for  hotels. 

We  drove  up  the  gay  Boulevards  to  the  church  of  La 
Madeleine.  Ah  !  with  what  joy  my  eyes  rested  upon  this 
"  magnificent  temple  to  the  true  God."  The  architecture  is 
noble  and  symmetrical.  It  is  built  after  the  style  of  the 
Parthenon,  at  Athens,  but  is  much  larger.  The  building 
stands  upon  a  platform,  about  ten  feet  high,  and  is  entirely 
encircled  by  a  peristyle  of  Corinthian  columns,  sixty  feet 
high,  and  six  in  diameter.  Along  the  walls  are  niches, 
wherein  are  placed  colossal  statues  of  the  saints.  Through 
the  great  bronze  doors  we  entered  the  church.  The  floor  is 
of  marble,  and  paintings  and  statuary  bewilder  one  with 
their  beauty.  Over  the  high  altar  is  the  exquisite  statue  of 
the  Virgin,  guarded  by  two  angels.  The  light  conies  from 
three  cupolas.  There  are  six  chapels;  each  has  a  statue  of 
its  patron  saint.  The  high  altar  has  a  group,  in  which  the 
Magdalene  is  represented  as  ascending  to  heaven,  borne  up 
by  the  wings  of  angels.  It  is  lovely  in  design  and  execution, 
and  is  by  Marochetti.  The  Madeleine  was  commenced  in 
17(j.*J.  In  consequence  of  the  revolution,  the  building  was 
Ht()j)t.      In  1808,  Napoleon  detennined  to  change  its  destina- 


THE   MADELEINE.  93 

tion,  and  make  it  a  "  temple  of  glory  to  the  grand  army?'' 
Upon  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  it  was  dedicated  to 
St.  Madeleine,  and  the  work  commenced.  It  was,  how- 
ever, finished  by  Louis  Philippe,  to  whom  Paris  owes  many 
of  its  tine  monuments. 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

July  2,2f7. 
A  MOST  agreeable  aud  polite  gentleman,  to  whom  we 
brought  a  letter,  accompanied  us  last  night  to  the  Opera 
Comique.  The  Opera  was  Haidee,  the  music  by  Auber. 
Two  acts  occur  on  ship-board,  and  so  perfect  were  all  the  ap- 
pointments, we  seemed  really  looking  upon  a  ship.  Although 
the  voices  were  none  of  them  remarkable,  yet  the  ensemble 
produced  a  fine  efi"ect.  The  acting  was  admirable.  The 
orchestra,  consisting  of  one  hundred  musicians,  was  delight- 
ful. 

The  house  is  a  handsome  one.  Nearly  all  the  boxes 
have  a  small  saloon  attached,  where  one  can  call  for  ices  by 
ringing  a  little  bell.  There  is  a  "  Foyer,"  or  large  saloon, 
decorated  with  Corinthian  pillars,  and  well  furnished,  where 
persons  promenade  between  the  acts.  This  is  a  most  charm- 
ing arrangement.  We  met  there  a  number  of  our  English 
acquaintances,  who,  now  that  the  season  in  London  is  over, 
are  coming  by  hundreds  to  Paris. 

This  has  been  a  glorious  day.  We  began  it  by  a  walk  in 
the  Gardens  of  the  Tuileries,  just  in  front  of  our  hotel. 
They  are  of  immense  size,  and  laid  out  by  Le  Notre  in  the 
reign  of  Louis  XIV.  Tliere  are  multitudes  of  trees  growing 
so  near  each  otlier  that  not  one   ray  of  sunlight   invades  the 


LA    PLACE   DE    LA    CONCORDE.  95 

deep  shade.  There  are  broad  walks  and  lovely  flower  par- 
terres, great  circular  basins  from  whose  centre  spring  up  shin- 
ing pillars  of  water.  There  are  fine  statues  and  antiques  and 
vases.  Every  portion  of  the  ground  is  filled,  and  perfect  taste 
and  harmony  prevail  in  all  the  arrangements  of  fountains,  of 
flower-beds  and  of  statuary.  These  gardens  are  directly  in  front 
of  the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries,  and  are  open  to  all  the  world. 
They  are  constantly  filled.  There  are  children  with  their 
nurses,  young  women  and  old  ones  with  their  pet  dogs  care- 
fully muzzled,  well-dressed  ladies,  and  dandyfied-looking  men, 
small  soldiers  and  tall  grenadiers.  Chairs  are  placed  under 
the  trees,  and  rented  for  a  few  sous.  Thus  many  poor  work- 
ing-women spend  all  the  day  here,  embroidering  or  knitting. 
The  open  air  seems  the  special  delight  of  the  French  people. 
Oh !  how  enjoyable  are  these  public  gardens,  free  alike  to 
the  rich  and  the  poor. 

From  the  Gardens  of  the  Tuileries  we  passed  on  to  La 
Place  de  la  Concorde^  once  called  Place  de  la  Pevolution, 
where  the  lovely  Marie  Antoinette  perished  by  the  guillotine 
— where  Louis  XVI.,  Madame  Elizabeth,  and  many  of  the 
nobles  of  France  met  the  fate  of  the  hapless  queen.  Swiftly 
through  my  mind  were  wafted  the  scenes  of  those  terrible 
days.  But  now,  how  magnificent  is  the  view !  The  wide 
world  has  not,  I  am  sure,  its  equal.  On  every  side  splendid 
monuments  meet  the  eyes :  the  noble  Palace  of  the  Kings, 
to  the  east,  rising  above  the  groves  of  the  garden ;  on  the 
west  the  Champs  Elysees,  and  beyond  them  the  graceful  out- 
line of  the  Triumphal  Arch.  Terminating  the  Pue  Poyale 
was  the  classic  and  majestic  Madeleine,  while  across  the  River 
Seine  the  marble  palace,  called  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  was 
visible. 

In  the  centre  of  "  La  Place  de  la  Concorde  "  is  the  grand 
obelisk  of  Luxor.     It  is  of  red  granite,  and  was  brought  from 


96  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

Egypt  during  the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe.  It  stood  before 
the  Temple  at  Thebes,  where  it  was  placed  fifteen  hundred 
and  fifty  years  before  the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  by  the  great 
Sesostris.  The  difiiculty  and  expense  of  fetching  it  to 
France  were  incredible.  "  Cleopatra's  Needle "  was  also 
given  to  the  French  Government  by  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt, 
but  it  still  remains  there.  The  two  fountains,  dedicated  to 
the  sea  and  river  navigation,  are  of  vast  circumference.  They 
are  surrounded  by  tritons  and  nereids,  who  hold  large  dol- 
phins, whence  gush  streams  of  water,  falling  in  feathery 
spray.  At  intervals  around  the  ''  Place  de  la  Concorde,"  are 
figures  representing  the  important  cities  of  France.  Then 
there  are  columns,  and  groups  of  statuary,  all  uniting  to  form 
a  picture  of  unparalleled  magnificence. 

At  the  E  ond  Pont,  a  fountain  just  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Champs  Elysees,  we  took  a  carriage  and  drove  along  the  avenue 
of  those  "  Elysian  Fields."  We  passed  the  Palace  of  In- 
dustry, now  rising  to  its  second  story.  It  will  be  an  enormous 
structure.  It  is  in  the  midst  of  a  grove.  We  wandered  for 
some  time  amid  the  trees  of  the  Champs  Elysees,  and  then, 
gradually  ascending  one  mile,  we  came  to  the  Arc  de  Triumphe 
de  VEtoile.  This  is  indeed  one  of  the  grandest  monuments  of 
Paris.  It  is  worthy  of  Napoleon,  who  laid  the  foundation, 
though  it  was  completed  by  Louis  Philippe.  It  is  a  single 
arch,  ninety-six  feet  in  height,  while  the  entire  structure  rises 
one  hundred  and  sixty-two  feet.  The  pediment,  the  frieze, 
and  the  panels,  are  covered  by  immense  figures  in  has  relief, 
representing  great  events  in  the  history  of  France.  There 
is  one  of  War,  calling  the  people  to  battle ;  another  of  Vic- 
tory, crowning  Napoleon ;  another  of  Fame,  sounding  forth 
his  warlike  deeds  to  all  nations.  Within  the  arch  are  re- 
corded all  his  victories,  and  the  names  of  his  generals. 
We   ascended  two  hundred  and    eighty  steps   to   the  sum- 


THE   CIiAPt:L   OF    ST.  FERDINAND.  97 

mit  of  the  arcli,  and  thence  the  view  was  grandly  magnificent. 
Taris  was  spread  out  beneath  us  like  a  chess-board,  with  all 
its  columns  of  triumph,  its  noble  churches,  its  winding 
streets,  its  narrow  alleys,  the  Seine  (the  shadow  of  a  river), 
with  its  bridges,  and  beyond  it  the  great  dome  of  the  Inva- 
lids; far  away,  Montmartre  and  the  City  of  the  Tombs, 
Pire  la  Chaise.  Then  the  forts  and  encircling  walls,  along 
the  Champs  Elysees,  the  gay  equipages  en  route  for  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne. 

After  leaving  the  Arch  of  Triumph,  we  went  to  the 
Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand,  built  upon  the  spot  where  the  Duke 
of  Orleans  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  carriage.  It  is  a 
small  building,  very  like  a  mausoleum.  The  Prince  was 
taken  into  the  house  of  the  grocer  Lecordier,  where  he  ex- 
pired in  a  few  hours.  The  property  was  bought  by  the  fam- 
ily, and  this  chapel  erected.  Near  the  altar  is  a  marble 
group.  It  represents  the  Duke  just  as  life  is  departing, 
while,  kneeling  at  his  head,  is  an  angel,  with  the  hands  raised 
to  heaven,  and  a  divine  expression  of  supplication  in  the  beau- 
tiful face.  This  angel  was  the  work  of  his  sister,  the  Prin- 
cess Marie,  who  died  some  years  before  her  brother.  Little 
did  she  imagine,  when  her  hands  wfere  moulding  this  figure, 
that  it  would  give  a  touching  grace  to  his  tomb.  In  a  room 
near  by  there  are  two  clocks ;  one  was  stopped  at  the  hour 
he  fell,  and  the  other  at  the  moment  of  his  death.  On  an- 
other altar  is  an  exquisite  statue  of  the  Virgin  and  Child, 
and  a  Descent  from  the  Cross,  by  Triquetti.  In  the  rear  of 
the  altar  is  the  very  room  in  which  he  died.  There  is  in  it 
one  of  the  most  pathetic  pictures  I  ever  beheld.  The  paint- 
ing represents  the  last  moments  of  the  Duke.  He  is  lying 
on  the  kitchen-floor,  his  breast  uncovered,  and  the  pallor  of 
death  stealing  over  his  features.  His  father  and  family  are 
kneeling  around  him,  while  Marshals  Gerard  and  Soult,  and 
Vol.  I.— 5 


98  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

several  others,  btaud  around  in  deep  despair.  One  figure  of 
the  mourning  group  touched  my  very  heart.  It  was  that 
of  tlic  Queen  Amclie.  Her  face  was  buried  in  her  handker- 
chief; but  the  form,  the  hands,  the  attitude,  were  so  pre- 
cisely like  my  own  dear  mother's,  I  could  not  restrain  my 
tears.  Thus  had  I  seen  her,  bowed  in  the  anguish  of  her 
stricken  soul,  beside  the  dying-bed  of  her  own  noble  and 
gifted  son.  In  the  yard  we  saw  a  tree,  planted  by  the  Count 
de  Pg^is.  It  was  brought  from  Lebanon  by  the  Duke,  and . 
is  one  of  the  cedars  famed  in  sacred  history. 

From  the  Barriere  de  VEtoile  we  drove  to  Neuilly, 
once  the  summer-palace  of  Louis  Philippe.  It  is  now  an 
entire  ruin,  having  been  destroyed  during  the  revolution 
which  made  the  Orleans  family  exiles  from  their  native  laud. 
Their  dead  only  remain. 

From  mournful  Neuilly  we  continued  our  drive  to  the 
Wood  of  Boulogne..  There,  amid  green  avenues  and  shady 
walks,  we  passed  some  hours.  It  was  a  bright  afternoon, 
and  thousands  of  persons  were  out  in  handsome  equipages,  or 
on  horseback.  All  had  a  smiling,  happy,  and  contented 
look,  as  though  the  air  were  champagne,  and  they  had  been 
drinking  in  deep  draughts.  There  is  really  a  most  exhila- 
rating effect  in  the  atmosphere  of  Paris.  .  One  feels  so  buoy- 
ant and  gay-spirited — so  free  from  care.  Bulwer  has  said, 
"  There  is  nothing  so  contagious  as  enthusiasm  ;  "  well  can  I 
paraphrase  the  expression  and  exclaim,  "  There  is  nothing 
more  contagious  than  happiness."  Thus  the  sunny  light 
upon  every  face  seemed  reflected  within  our  own  hearts. 

Returning  to  Paris  quite  late,  we  dined  with  a  dear,  kind 
friend  at  the  Trois  Frcres.  The  dinner  was  sumptuous  and 
exquisite,  the  wines  delicious,  and  the  fruits  most  excellent. 
Thence  we  went  to  the  Frangais  near  by  (also  in  the  Palais 
Royal).     This  theatre  has  been  the  scene  of  the  great  tri- 


THE    LOUVKE.  99 

uniplis  of  Rachel.  In  the  graceful,  elegant,  and  natural  act- 
ing of  Madeleine  Brohau,  we  ceased  to  remember  the  weari- 
ness of  a  long  day  of  "sight-seeing."  It  was  midnight,  and 
the  Boulevards  were  losing  their  merry  throngs,  as  we  passed 
through  them  to  our  hotel. 

July  24th. — All  this  day  have  we  spent  in  the  Louvre. 
Its  architectural  beauty  is  very  great,  and  worthy  of  the 
gems  it  encloses.  In  historic  as  well  as  artistic  interest,  the 
Louvre  is  without  a  parallel.  During  the  reign  of  Francis  I. 
this  palace  was  built,  from  the  designs  of  Pierre  Lescot.  It 
was  said  Titian,  the  great  painter,  gave  man}^  suggestions  to 
the  monarch  and  to  the  architect.  For  centuries  it  was  the 
home  of  the  sovereigns  of  France.  There  lived  the  cruel 
Catherine  de  Medici,  and  the  beautiful  Diana  de  Poitiers, 
the  lovely  Mary,  queen  of  Scotland,  then  the  happy  wife  of 
the  French  King.  At  one  of  the  windows  stood  Charles  IX. 
during  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  when  the  blood  of 
the  Huguenots  flowed  like  a  dark  stream  beneath  it.  Num- 
berless hands  have  toiled,  and  untold  wealth  has  been  lav- 
ished upon  it;  but  unto  the  present  Emperor,  the  energetic, 
the  wise,  and  bold  ruler  of  the  nation,  has  fallen  the  happy 
privilege  of  its  completion.  It  is  a  gorgeous  structure,  grand 
and  imposing. 

The  Museums  of  the  Antiques  are  on  the  ground-floor. 
There  we  saw  the  Venus  de  Milo,  which,  although  mutilated, 
is  still  of  exceeding  beauty.  It  is  supposed  to  be  the  work 
of  Phidias.  Passing  through  these  rooms  of  the  statuary  of 
many  countries,  we  came  to  the  grand  marble  staircase,  and 
thence  proceeded  along  the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  to  the  square 
room  called,  I  think,  the  "  Murillo  Room,"  from  the  master- 
piece of  that  artist.  In  the  centre  of  the  apartment  is  a 
large  velvet  divan.  Upon  this  I  seated  myself,  and  was  soon 
lost  in  the  contemplation  of  that  most  admirable  of  all  pic- 


100  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

tures,  "The  Conception,"  by  Murillo.  The  Virgin  is  rising 
with  clasped  hands  to  heaven.  The  crescent  moon  is  at  her 
feet,  while  the  air  around  seems  filled  with  angel-children. 
But,  ah  !  the  loveliness  of  the  face  is  beyond  the  words  of 
description.  It  filled  my  whole  soul  with  its  beauty,  touch- 
ing a  chord  of  memory  which  vibrated  through  my  heart  with 
a  mournful  cadence.  The  face  of  my  child,  now  among  the 
angels  of  God,  was  like  this.  The  picture  was  brought  to 
France  by  Marshal  Soult,  and,  although  the  Spanish  Govern- 
ment offered  to  buy  it  at  any  price,  it  still  remains  the  gem 
of  the  gallery. 

In  this  Salon  Carre  are  the  most  rare  and  precious 
paintings.  "  The  Marriage  of  Cana,"  by  Paul  Veronese,  is 
maornificent ;  it  fills  an  entire  side  of  the  room.  The  "  Vir- 
gin  and  Child,"  by  Carlo  Dolce,  the  "  Sleeping  Venus  and 
Cupid,"  the  paintings  of  Titian,  of  Raphael,  of  Correggio,  of 
Guido  Rene,  and  of  many  other  of  the  great  masters. 

From  this  room  of  treasures,  we"  passed  into  the  grand 
gallery,  uniting  the  Louvre  to  the  Tuileries ;  it  is  more  than 
thirteen  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  is  well  lighted.  The 
walls  are  entirely  covered  with  pictures  of  all  centuries  since 
the  art  was  known,  until  the  present  time.  There  are  many 
of  Rubens  and  Rembrandt,  of  Salvator  Rosa  and  Claude 
Lorraine;  in  truth,  the  creations  of  the  artists  of  all  nations 
are  here  to  be  seen.  There  were  many  artists  taking  copies 
of  the  great  pictures,  among  them  were  a  number  of  young 
girls,  graceful  and  prett3^  Some  were  perched  midway  be- 
tween the  floor  and  ceiling  on  large  step-ladders,  and  as  we 
passed,  looked  down  upon  us  with  their  loving  dark  eyt)s,  in 
a  most  attractive  manner. 

There  are  several  large  rooms  filled  entirely  with  the 
works  of  the  French  masters.  David  is  there  in  his  full  per- 
fection ;  Napoleon  is  the  presiding  genius  of  all  his  pictures. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  BARON  GROS.        101 

He  portrays  him  always  grand,  majestic,  and  unequalled. 
There  were  two  exquisite  pictures  of  Horace  Vernet,  "  The 
Departure,"  and  ''  The  Return."  The  "  Psyche  "  of  Gerard 
was  beautiful,  so  chaste  and  pure  in  conception,  and  perfect 
in  execution. 

Paul  Delaroche  is  eminently  an  historical  painter ; 
his  picture  of  the  "  Death-bed  scene  of  Queen  Elizabeth  " 
is  very  striking,  although  I  preferred  the  Saint  Cecilia 
playing  upon  an  organ  held  before  her  by  an  angel.  The 
expression  of  the  face  is  calm  and  seraphic,  and  the  drapery 
falls  around  the  form  in  folds  of  delicate  grace. 

Eugene  de  la  Croix  is  a  bold  and  original  artist;  his 
"  Cleopatra  "  is  an  admirable  painting,  also  his  "  Dante  and 
Virgil  crossing  the  lake  which  encircles  the  Infernal  City." 

There  was  a  splendid  portrait  of  Napoleon  the  Great  by 
the  Baron  Gros ;  his  Battle  of  Eylau  is  magnificent.  There 
is  a  wild,  strange  story  told  of  the  daughter  of  Baron  Gros, 
who  absolutely  worshiped  the  Apollo  Belvidere.  It  was 
during  the  period  of  its  sojourn  in  the  gallery  of  the  Louvre. 
She  was  a  dreamy  and  enthusiastic  girl,  and  would  sit  for 
hours  gazing  upon  the  peerless  statue,  as  though  she  could  vi- 
talize that  marble  bosom  by  the  influence  of  her  own  burning 
and  impassioned  love.  Each  day  she  came  with  wreaths  of 
flowers,  which  she  laid  at  its  feet.  One  evening  she  did  not 
return,  and  when  they  sought  her,  she  was  leaning  against 
the  pedestal,  her  face  hidden  by  her  hands ;  she  made  no 
answer  to  the  repeated  calls,  and  at  last,  upon  touching  her, 
they  found  her  dead ;  utterly  lifeless  and  cold,  as  the  marble 
god  of  her  adoration.  Years  passed  by,  and  her  father, 
honored,  rich,  and  beloved,  threw  himself  into  the  Seine. 
Thus  madly  perished  both  daughter  and  father. 

"  The  Wreck  of  the  Medusa,"  by  Gericault,  is  a  fearful 
picture  of  suffering  and  despair. 


102  SOUVENIES    OF   TRAVEL. 

We  wandered  through  gallery  after  gallery,  the  ceilings 
arched  and  painted  in  fresco,  and  perfect  treasures  of  once 
buried  art  within  them  ;  the  Etruscan  vases,  and  adorn- 
ments, Egyptian,  Assyrian,  Grecian,  and  Roman  statuettes, 
images  of  gods,  and  objects  of  vertii.  In  the  centre  of 
each  room  is  a  railing,  and  within  it  an  immense  vase,  either 
of  porcelain  or  of  Sevres  china,  of  malechite,  or  of  lapis 
lazuli.  There  are  also  rooms  containing  paintings  upon 
china.  In  the  "  hall  of  jewels,"  are  glass  vases  of  precious 
stones,  and  the  silver  and  gold  cups  used  by  the  church 
even  in  the  time  of  Charlemagne ;  then  the  toilet  mirror 
sent  by  the  republic  of  Venice  to  Marie  de  Medici. 

Our  friend  P.,  who  had  so  often  told  me  of  the  glories 
of  the  Louvre  in  our  far-away  home,  was  my  cicerone  to  the 
Imperial  Museum,  recently  established  by  the  order  of  Louis 
Napoleon.  It  contains  many  articles  which  were  once  worn 
by  the  different  sovereigns  ;  of  the  great  Napoleon  there  are 
many  relics;  his  swords,  his  camp-bed,  his  writing-desk,  his 
chair^  the  hat  he  wore  at  St.  Helena,  the  cradle  of  the  King  of 
Rome,  the  handkerchief  taken  from  the  death-bed ;  his  shoes, 
his  clothes,  his  service  of  silver,  used  in  his  campaigns  ;  all 
these  articles  are  preserved  as  sacred  in  glass  cases.  There 
were  fans  of  Marie  Antoinette,  jewels  of  Marie  Louise;  indeed 
some  articles  of  personal  use  belonging  to  nearly  all  the  sove- 
reio-ns  of  France.  But  among  them  all,  there  was  not  one 
relic  of  the  good  and  gracious  Josephine.  These  treasures 
of  sculpture,  of  painting,  and  of  art,  are  open  to  all  strangers ; 
by  showing  one's  passport,  free  admission  is  given. 

After  leaving  the  Louvre,  we  went  into  the  "  Place  du 
Carrousel,"  whit^  takes  its  name  from  the  tournament  held 
here  by  Louis  XIV.  in  1662.  In  the  centre  is  a  triumphal 
arch  raised  by  Napoleon  in  1806.  It  is  in  imitation  of  the 
arch  of  Septimus  Severus  at  Rome.     The  bronze  horses  from 


IMPK0VEMENT3    IN    PARIS.  103 

the  Piazza  of  St.  Mark,  were  once  placed  upon  this  arch,  but 
restored  to  Venice  by  the  allies.  Within  this  great  square 
or  place,  it  is  said  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  soldiers 
can  manoeuvre.  It  is  magnificent,  and  the  vast  structure 
which  surrounds  this  area,  seems  as  impenetrable  as  a  fortress. 

The  improvements  progressing  in  Paris  are  wonderful  in 
extent  and  variety  ;  in  almost  every  direction  houses  are  be- 
ing torn  down  to  widen  the  streets ;  thousands  and  thousands 
of  men  are  at  work  in  the  employment  of  the  government ; 
they  are  well-fed,  and  have  no  time  for  revolutions.  Never 
was  France  more  prosperous,  and  Louis  Napoleon  will  soon 
be  as  dear  to  the  French  nation  as  was  the  great  Napoleon. 
An  old  countess  relating  to  me  the  horrors  of  the  republic, 
the  instability  of  all  possessions,  and  the  languor  of  commerce, 
exclaimed  as  though  from  her  soul,  "  Thank  Grod,  the  repub- 
lic has  ended,  and  we  now  have  the  strong  arm  of  an  Emperor 
to  sustain  us."  Of  course,  there  are  many  turbulent  spirits 
still  at  work,  but  so  truly  does  Louis  Napoleon  seem  to  know 
tbe  interests  of  France  and  to  advance  them,  that  he  will  yet 
make  her  the  greatest  power  of  Europe. 

In  the  afternoon  we  visited  the  "  Palais  Koyal,"  once  the 
property  of  Louis  Philippe.  It  was  first  called  the  "  Palais 
Cardinal,"  and  was  built  by  Kichelieu,  and  by  him  given  to 
Louis  XIII.  Anne  of  Austria  and  her  infant  son  Louis 
XIY.  lived  there.  It  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Orleans 
family  through  Mademoiselle  de  Blois,  who  married  the  Duke 
of  Orleans ;  it  was  given  her  as  a  dowry  by  her  father  Louis 
XIY.  Philip  Egalite  changed  the  vast  gardens  into  shops 
and  cafes.  It  was  for  a  long  period  the  home  of  Louis 
Philippe  and  his  family.  The  portion  called  the  "Palace" 
is  now  occupied  by  Prince  Jerome  Bonaparte  and  his  son 
Prince  Napoleon. 

The  garden   of  the  "  Palais  Royal "  is  surrounded  by 


104  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

galleries,  and  planted  with  trees ;  in  the  centre  is  a  fountain, 
and  many  fine  statues  around  it ;  the  houses  are  all  of  uni- 
form architecture.  There  is  a  broad  gallery  under  the  lofty 
arcades,  and  from  it  one  looks  into  shops  of  glittering 
brightness,  filled  with  imitation  jewels  so  radiant,  the  true 
can  scarcely  be  told  from  the  false.  Then  there  are  shops 
where  the  fruit  is  piled  up  into  mimic  mountains,  most 
luscious  and  beautiful ;  then  fishes  of  all  descriptions,  and 
giant  lobsters,  and  their  miniatures,  craw-fish,  stupendous 
crabs,  like  those  seen  in  the  fossil  remains  of  the  antediluvian 
world.  Beyond  this  gallery,  hundreds  of  chairs  are  placed, 
and  tables,  where  groups  are  sitting  taking  ices  or  cofi'ee. 
The  band  was  playing,  and  crowds  of  people  were  thronging 
in,  some  to  dine,  (for  in  the  "Palais  Eoyal"are  the  most 
famous  restaurants,)  some  on  "  pleasure  bent,"  and  many  to 
watch  the  gambols  of  their  children,  who  were  rolling  hoops 
or  jumping  the  rope.  There  was  an  air  of  enjoyment,  of 
self-content  about  every  one,  which  was  delightful. 

Galleries  roofed  over  with  glass  are  very  numerous. 
They  are  well  paved  with  square  stones,  and  have  small  shops 
on  each  side,  tended  by  neatly  dressed  shopwomen,  very 
smiling  and  attractive.  These  galleries  are  a  charming 
promenade  in  wet  weather,  and  in  winter  are  warmed,  there- 
by afi'ording  comfort  to  thousands  of  poor  wretches,  who  are 
without  firewood  at  home.  When  all  the  lamps  were  lighted 
the  efi'ect  was  brilliant. 

The  gardens  and  the  cafes  have  been  for  many  ages  the 
favorite  resort  of  politicians.  The  Club  of  Jacobins  were 
wont  to  meet  here ;  likewise  those  of  the  Girondists,  and 
the  Dantonists.     We  ended  our  day  by  a  dinner  at  Very\s. 


CHAPTER    XIY. 

"  Juhj  Ihih. 

We  spent  some  hours  in  the  grand  and  magnificent  Cathe- 
dral of  "  Notre  Dame  de  Paris,"  whose  history  is  interwoven 
with  the  greatest  events  of  Parisian  life,  since  the  days  of 
Julius  Caesar.  "  The  Parisiaci "  were  supposed  to  have 
erected  upon  this  spot  an  altar  to  Jupiter,  which  was  cast 
down  by  the  early  Christians  in  the  reign  of  Yalentinian  I. 
St.  Stephen  built  a  church  here  about  365. 

Victor  Hugo,  in  his  "  Notre  Dame  de  Paris,"  has  given 
an  admirable  description,  of  the  sculptured  figures  on  the 
Grand  Portal.  There  are  two  towers  of  great  height.  The 
architecture  is  Gothic,  and  its  size  stupendous.  The  view 
upon  first  entering  the  Cathedral  is  surpassingly  fine.  The 
vaulted  roof  is  sustained  by  numerous  pillars,  and  a  perfect 
harmony  of  efi"ect  pervades  the  whole  sanctuary.  Beneath 
the  side  aisles  the  ceiling  is  of  azure,  studded  with  golden 
stars.  There  are  fine  paintings  and  noble  statues.  Near 
the  grand  altar  are  twelve  pictures  representing  scenes 
in  the  life  of  our  Saviour.  They  are  said  to  be  of  great 
value.  In  front  of  the  altar  is  a  star  in  the  marble  pave- 
ment. It  marks  the  spot  where  stood  Napoleon  and  Jose- 
phine at  their  coronation.  The  walls  of  "  Notre  Dame  "  then 
Vol.  I.— 5* 


106  SOUVENIRS    OF   TKAVEL. 

resounded  with  the  song  of  triumph,  and  never  before  had 
Paris  beheld  a  spectacle  of  such  matchless  splendor.  For 
ten  centuries  no  monarch  had  ever  been  crowned  by  the 
Pope  of  Rome.  Even  Charlemagne  went  to  Rome  to  re- 
ceive the  crown.  But,  for  Napoleon,  (whose  will  was  as 
resistless  as  the  inevitable,)  his  Holiness  came  to  Paris.  At 
tlie  same  altar  too,  only  a  few  months  ago,  was  the  marriage 
ceremony  of  Louis  Napoleon  and  the  lovely  Eugenie. 

In  one  of  the  side  chapels  are  preserved  the  coronation 
robes  of  Napoleon  the  Great,  also  those  worn  upon  that 
occasion  by  the  Pope.  They  showed  us  likewise  the  robes 
and  decorations  of  the  Cardinals  and  Bishops  when  the  body 
of  the  Emperor  was  brought  from  St.  Helena,  and  laid  in 
the  chapel  of  the  "  Hotel  des  Invalids."  They  are  all  of 
black  velvet,  most  gorgeously  embroidered  with  silver. 

Near  the  Cathedral  we  were  pointed  out  the  site  of  the 
Bishop's  Palace,  which  was  destroyed  in  1848,  soon  after  the 
mob  had  murdered  the  Bishop  of  Paris  in  the  streets.  The 
"  Hotel  Dieu,"  the  most  ancient  hospital  in  the  city,  is  just 
across  the  river.  Philip  Augustus  endowed  this  institu- 
tion, and  gave  it  the  name  of  "  House  of  God." 

As  we  drove  away  we  passed  the  "  Morgue,"  a  dark, 
plain  edifice,  near  the  bank  of  the  Seine.  Sad  emotions 
possessed  us  as  we  looked  upon  this  dread  and  last  refuge  of 
the  guilty,  the  broken-hearted,  and  the  betrayed.  Upon 
stone  tables  the  bodies  are  laid,  and  a  small  stream  of  water, 
like  a  bright  thread,  constantly  falls  upon  them.  The 
clothes  are  hung  near  them,  by  which  means  they  are  often 
recognized.  There  were  at  our  visit  three  victims  to  "  in- 
exorable fate."  One  was  a  woman,  whose  thin,  meagre 
form  told  of  poverty  and  despair — another  a  strong  man, 
with  his  death-wound  upon  the  broad  breast.  The  other  was 
a  youth,  with  delicate  limbs  and  small  hands.      All  had  been 


HALDE    AUX   VINS.  107 

fished  out  of  the  Seine  that  morning,  and  none  had  yet 
come  to  seek  or  to  claim  them.  They  told  me  seven  or 
eight  were  the  usual  number  brought  there  each  day.  A 
feeling  of  such  deep  gloom  hung  around  me  for  hours  after- 
wards, that  I  truly  regretted  having  made  this  fearful 
"  Morgue  "  one  of  the  "  sights  of  Paris." 

We  crossed  the  "  Pont  Neuf,"  a  splendid  bridge  over  the 
Seine.  Upon  it  is  the  statue  of  Henry  lY.  This  statue 
is  deemed  the  finest  in  Paris.  It  is  fourteen  feet  high,  and  is 
adorned  on  the  sides  of  the  pedestal  with  bas  reliefs.  These 
portray  events  in  the  life  of  the  King.  The  view  of  Paris 
from  this  bridge  is  very  remarkable.  Great  stone  embank- 
ments are  built  up  to  the  level  of  the  city,  between  which 
flows  the  diminutive  river.  On  each  side  of  the  banks  are 
paved  "  quays.'  Then  in  every  direction  are  the  "  monu- 
ments "  of  the  city ;  the  green  forests  of  the  Tuileries ;  the 
beautiful  "  Champs  Elysees,"  and  the  glorious  "  Place  de  la 
Concorde." 

The  Pont  Neuf  passes  over  the  end  of  an  island  in  the 
Seine,  called  "  He  de  la  Cite."  This  is  a  quiet,  quaint  old 
portion  of  Paris.  Along  the  quays  we  drove  past  the  "  Halle 
aux  Vins,"  (the  wine  market,)  where  all  wines  are  kept.  It 
is  divided  into  streets,  named  after  the  various  wines.  The 
buildings  are  very  numerous,  and  are  surrounded  by  an  iron 
railing,  within  which  are  the  offices  and  counting-rooms  of 
the  merchants.     Beyond  these  markets  we  came  to  the 

Jardin  des  Plants. — Louis  XIII.  established  this  gar- 
den, in  1635.  It  is  of  vast  dimensions,  and  is  planted  with 
trees,  in  great  avenues.  There  is  a  "  Menagerie,"  contain- 
ing animals  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  There  are 
dens  for  the  lions,  and  other  ferocious  beasts,  small  huts  for 
the  more  gentle  species,  surrounded  with  an  enclosure  of  wire, 
wherein  are  planted  shrubs  and  trees.     There  is  a  large 


108  SOUYENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

stone  building  for  the  monkeys,  with  a  circular  space  in 
front,  covered  over  with  a  network  of  wire.  Around  this 
hundreds  of  people  (for  it  was  a  fete  day)  were  gathered, 
laughing  with  delight  at  the  gambols  of  the  monkeys,  who 
went  through  a  variety  of  curious  performances.  One  more 
gifted  than  the  rest,  after  looking  very  cunningly  upon  the 
audience,  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  pavilion  and  rang  a  bell, 
whereupon  shouts  rent  the  air,  and  fruit  was  held  out  to  re- 
ward him,  when  he  sprang  down  and  accepted  it  in  a 
dignified  manner. 

In  a  large  circular  building  are  the  elephants,  giraffes, 
and  the  enormous  hippopotamus  from  the  Nile.  Although 
he  was  in  his  bath,  he  came  forth  at  the  call  of  the  keeper, 
and  displayed  himself  to  us.  There  were  several  majestic 
lions  and  lionesses,  many  fearful-looking  tigers  and  hyenas, 
South  and  North  American  eagles,  gentle  gazelles,  and  timid 
deer.  Of  birds,  there  were  endless  varieties — of  snakes, 
of  turtles  and  tortoise.  In  a  deep  pit,  surmounted  by  an  iron 
railing,  were  polar  bears,  pacing  to  and  fro  incessantly ;  they 
seemed  less  content  than  the  other  animals.  In  a  small  en- 
closure, overshadowed  by  noble  trees,  were  a  number  of 
ostriches,  seemingly  as  content  as  though  in  their  own  sandy 
deserts. 

The  Botanical  Gardens  are  exceedingly  fine,  and  the  con- 
servatories of  vast  dimensions,  and  filled  with  exquisite  trop- 
ical flowers  and  plants ;  among  them  the  palm  trees,  as  luxu- 
riant as  those  of  Cuba. 

We  merely  glanced  at  the  Gallery  of  Comparative  Anat- 
omy, rendered  so  celebrated  by  the  labor  of  Cuvier,  then  on 
through  the  rooms  with  the  preserved  specimens  of  zoology, 
to  those  containing  the  specimens  of  mineralogy  and  geology. 
The  quartz  crystal,  presented  by  Napoleon,  while  he  was 
with  the  army  in  Italy,  is  beautiful. 


THE    WINTER   GARDEN.  109 

The  Library  is  very  extensive  and  rich,  not  only  in  books, 
but  in  original  drawings  upon  vellum. 

After  seeing  all  the  wonders  of  the  gardens,  we  walked 
for  some  time  beneath  the  great  avenues,  and  lingered  near 
the  "  Cedar  of  Lebanon,"  which  was  planted  here  in  1734. 
It  has  great  wide-spreading  branches,  making  a  deep  shade 
beneath  them. 

At  night  we  went  to  a  concert  at  the  "  Jardin  d'Hiver," 
(the  Winter  Garden.)  This  is  an  immense  structure  of  glass 
and  iron,  most  tastefully  arranged.  There  is  a  perfect  forest 
of  tropical  trees  and  flowers.  Large  orange  trees,  in  full 
blossom,  gave  out  a  delicious  perfume,  while  the  broad-leafed 
banana,  the  cactus,  the  yucca,  and  the  palm  tree,  were  green- 
ly luxuriant.  There  were  grottoes,  and  fountains,  cool  lake- 
lets, and  aviaries  filled  with  bright-hued  birds.  Where 
wood-work  was  necessary  in  the  formation  of  the  building,  it 
was  hidden  by  giant  mirrors,  whose  frames  were  covered  by 
creeping  plants.  Throughout  the  garden,  there  was  a  soft, 
subdued  light,  though  the  concert-room  was  blazing  with 
multitudes  of  fantastically- shaped  gas-burners. 

The  music  was  not  very  charming,  so  we  preferred  wan- 
dering amid  the  rich  and  rare  exotics. 

July  26th. — At  early  morning  we  entered  the  "  city  of 
the  dead,"  Fere  la  Chaise,  with  its  streets,  squares,  and  ave- 
nues. For  one  mile  ere  we  reached  it,  the  way  was  lined  on 
.either  side  by  shops,  with  wreaths  of  "  Immortelles,"  and 
small  plaster  figures  to  place  on  the  tombs.  The  cemetery 
takes  its  name  from  Pere  la  Chaise,  who  was  Confessor  to 
Louis  XIV.,  and  occupied  a  religious  house  of  the  Jesuits, 
built  upon  the  summit  of  the  hill.  By  the  order  of  Napoleon 
it  was  converted  into  a  burial-place,  and  the  grounds  laid 
out  by  Brongniart.  It  is  planted  with  cypress  trees,  and 
flowering  shrubs.     Many  of  the   tombs  are  like  miniature 


110  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

chapels.  There  are  altars,  and  within  them  paintings,  lamps, 
and  sacred  relics.  A  grated  door  reveals  the  interior.  Then 
there  are  obelisks,  urns,  columns,  mausoleums,  and  temples. 
An  iron  railing  encircles  them,  wherein  are  growing  beautiful 
flowers. 

Leaving  the  principal  avenue,  we  came  to  the  tomb  of 
"  Abelard  and  Heloise,"  formed  out  of  the  ruins  of  the 
"  Abbey  Paraclete,"  where  Abelard  was  abbot.  It  is  an 
arched  roof,  sustained  by  pillars.  Under  it  the  forms  of  the 
two  lovers  are  lying,  side  by  side,  more  happy  in  that  sculp- 
tured repose,  than  in  their  burning  and  tumultuous  life. 
Wreaths  and  flowers  were  in  abundance  upon  their  resting- 
place.  How  truly  does  this  manifest  that  love,  of  all  pas- 
sions, awakens  the  deepest  sympathy  in  every  heart,  and  is 
thus  held  sacred  through  all  the  "  changes  and  chances  of 
time." 

A  long  walk,  almost  like  a  gallery  of  statuary,  contains 
the  monuments  of  Napoleon's  brave  generals — Cambeceres, 
Massena,  Suchet,  Junot,  Decres,  Mouge,  Foy,  Le  Febvre ; 
but  for  the  gallant  and  ill-fated  Ney  there  was  no  urn  or  col- 
umn to  mark  his  resting-place  on  earth, — the  spot  is  enclosed, 
and  a  few  flowers  are  blooming  within  it. 

Passing  on,  we  came  to  the  tombs  of  La  Fontaine  and 
of  Moliere,  then  of  Talma,  of  Racine,  of  Mme.  de  Genlis,  of 
Bellini,  of  Casimir  Perier,  and  of  Bernardin  St.  Pierre.  At 
every  step  we  looked  upon  the  tomb  of  some  poet,  warrior, 
orator,  or  historian.  There  is  a  magnificent  mausoleum  of 
the  Princess  Demidofi".  Although  so  grand,  it  had  a  lonely 
look  about  it,  for  not  one  wreath  or  flower  was  placed  upon 
the  marble  columns. 

We  were  especially  interested  in  a  nameless  monument, 
of  faultless  grace  and  execution.  Around  it  was  an  exr 
quisite  little   garden  of  rare  flowers,  and  wreaths  and  crowns 


THE   CHILD'S    GRAVE.  Ill 

of  immortelles  were  hanging  within  it.  Whose  was  it  ?  None 
could  tell.  No  name  revealed  who  slept  beneath.  The 
flowers  were  tended,  and  the  wreaths  brought  there  by  the 
gardener,  who  was  liberally  paid  for  his  services. 

From  the  summit  of  the  hill,  near  the  chapel,  is  a  glori- 
ous view  of  Paris,  with  its  domes,  its  spires,  its  arches,  its 
columns  of  triumph,  stretching  far  away,  till  lost  in  the  dim 
distance. 

From  the  gorgeous  monuments  of  the  rich,  the  gifted, 
and  the  noble,  we  came  to  the  burial-place  of  the  poor.  It 
was  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  so  thronged  was  this  last  rest- 
ing-place, that  only  a  few  inches  were  permitted  between 
each  grave.  Here  I  was  far  more  touched  by  the  simple 
memorials  of  affection,  than  amid  the  almost  regal  magnifi- 
cence above.  There  was  one  grave  of  a  child;  the  little 
marble  slab,  containing*  its  name,  was  covered  with  a  glass 
case,  as  though  the  fond  mother  would  guard  her  darling's 
tomb  erven  from  the  dews  of  heaven.  Within  that  glass 
enclosure  were  many  of  its  play-things  and  toys.  These 
were  the  parent's  most  cherished  relics,  and  as  such  she  had 
placed  them  there.  Fast  fell  my  tears  as  I  looked  upon  it, 
and  memory  wandered  to  that  far-distant  land,  where  sleep 
my  own  precious  treasures,  in  the  cold  security  of  the  grave. 

To  the  French  may  well  be  awarded  the  honor  of  being 
the  first  to  embellish  and  idealize,  with  beautiful  tokens  of 
love,  the  place  where  the  "  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest."  Although  "  Pere  la  Chaise  "  is  rich 
in  mausoleums,  in  obelisks,  and  grand  columns,  it  has  not 
the  beauty  of  "  Mount  Auburn  "  or  of  "  Greenwood."  There 
are  no  deep  woods,  where  the  mourner  can  seek  the  luxury 
of  solitary  grief;  no  quiet  dells,  where  the  troubled  spirit 
can  sigh  to  rest  forever.  These,  and  many  other  charms  of 
nature,  both  "  Greenwood  "  and  "  Mount  Auburn  "  possess, 


112  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

but  in   this  ."  Necropolis  "  are  the  pride  and  the  glory  of 
the  \s'orld,  lingering  even  in  the  "  valley  of  death." 

The  long  visit  to  "  Pere  la  Chaise  "  rendered  me  quite 
unsuited  to  the  gay  tumult  of  Paris  life,  so  we  spent  the 
evening  quietly  and  sadly  in  our  own  apartments. 

"Ever  and  anon,  of  griefs  subdued 
There  comes  a  token  " — 

and  to-night,  the  fountain  of  sorrow  is  welling  up  its  bitter 
waters ;  wave  after  wave  of  anguish  is  sweeping  over  my  soul. 

'Grief  treads  heavily,  and  leaves  behind 
A  deep  impression,  e'en  when  it  departs ; 
While  joy  trips  by,  with  steps  as  light  as  wind, 
And  scarcely  makes  one  trace  upon  our  hearts." 

We  went  this  morning  to  the  "  Hotel  de  Cluny,"  and 
the  "  Musee  des  Thermes,"  which  are  now  united  into  one 
institution.  The  "  Palais  des  Thermes  "  was  once  the  resi- 
dence of  the  Emperor  Julian,  and  the  "  Hotel  de  Cluny  " 
was  built  near  it,  by  an  abbot  of  that  name,  in  1480.  It  has 
been  variously  occupied,  once  by  King  James,  of  Scotland, 
then  by  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  Afterwards  a  troupe  of 
comedians  purchased  it.  Marat  held  his  meetings  there;  and 
at  last  it  became  the  property  of  Sommerard,  an  enthusias- 
tic antiquarian,  who  formed  a  valuable  collection  of  the 
objects  of  art  in  the  middle  ages.  The  government  bought 
it  from  his  heirs,  and  made  it  a  "  Museum  of  National  Anti- 
quities," There  were  wonderful  curiosities  in  elaborate 
carving,  of  ebony.  The  buffets  and  wardrobes  were  numer- 
ous, and  most  exquisitely  wrought.  Many  articles  of  furni- 
ture, used  in  those  ages,  have  been  gathered  here.  "We 
saw  the  bed  of  Francis  I.  It  is  not  a  repose-inviting  couch. 
Then  we  also  saw  the  beds  of  many  great  cardinals,  and  of 


STOCKBROKEES     AND   MEKCHANTS     EXCHANGE.        113 

princes.  There  are  paintings,  religious  orcftiments,  and 
tapestry  portraying  the  history  of  David  and  Bathsheba ; 
also  many  objects  belonging  to  the  toilette.  Under 
the  "  Palais  des  Thermes,"  is  the  oldest  monument  of 
Paris.  It  is  the  '■^  frigidrium^^  or  the  chamber  for  the  cold 
baths.  There  is  a  curious  chapel  in  the  Hotel  of  Cluny. 
The  ceiling  is  sustained  by  a  round  pillar.  Crosses  and  altar 
pieces  are  seen  there. 

From  this  turreted  old  building  we  drove  to  La  Bourse. 
This  is  a  magnificent  edifice  for  the  meeting  of  merchants, 
and  for  the  transactions  in  the  funds.  It  is  almost  square, 
and  is  entirely  surrounded  by  Corinthian  columns.  The 
"  Salle  de  la  Bourse  "  is  an  immense  room;  the  stockbrokers 
and  merchants  assemble  there.  We  went  up  in  the  gallery 
above,  and  looked  down  upon  the  vast  throag.  Every  one 
seemed  to  be  speaking  and  gesticulating  at  once,  and  the 
roar  of  the  voices  in  that  vaulted  room  was  like  the  rushino- 
sound  of  some  great  cataract.  Far  beyond  "La  Bourse" 
we  heard  it.  Fortunes  are  made  and  lost  within  its  walls. 
When  the  affairs  of  the  day  are  ended,  the  result  is  struck 
off,  and  men  walk  through  the  streets,  screaming  out  "  Cours 
de  la  Bourse,"  "  Cours  de  la  Bourse." 


CHAPTEE    XY. 

From  the  noisy  and  tumultuous  "  Bourse,"  we  passed  over 
the  Seine  to  the  Palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  which  bears 
upon  a  marble  tablet  this  inscription :  ^^  Palais  de  la  Cham- 
hre  des  Pairs.^\ 

The  Luxembourg  was  built  by  the  orders  of  Marie  do 
Medici,  to  resemble  as  much  as  possible  the  Pitti  Palace  of 
her  native  Florence.  It  is  a  noble  and  magnificent  edifice 
and  rich  within  from  its  picture-galleries,  its  statues,  and  its 
frescoes.  The  rooms  are  lofty  and  gorgeously  gilded  speci- 
mens of  the  "  Renaissance  "  style.  Rubens  painted  scenes 
descriptive  of  the  entire  life  of  Marie  de  Medici,  at  least 
of  her  life  of  triumph ;  (for  the  last  closing  scene,  in  the  dim, 
dark  garret,  is  not  recorded.)  These  pictures,  however,  were 
removed  to  the  Louvre.  But  in  the  bedchamber  of  Marie 
de  Medici,  there  is  a  painting  upon  the  ceiling  by  Rubens,  of 
the  Queen.  This  chamber  is  superbly  decorated.  Near  it 
is  a  chapel,  remarkable  only  for  a  statue  of  Fenelon. 

The  "  Salle  de  Seances,"  or  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  (when 
France  possessed  them)  is  a  splendid  room.  The  galleries  of 
pictures  of  the  modern  school,  by  Vernet,  by  DelarochCj 
by  Roqueplan,  and  others,  are  effective  and  brilliant.  Those 
of  Vernet  revel  in  all  the  glories  of  the  campaigns  of  Napo- 


HISTORICAL   MEMORIES.  H^ 

leoo.     An  admirable  writer  lias  styled  his  era  the  "  Modern 

Iliad."  .     ,    •  . 

The  Luxembourg  awakened  many  historical  memories, 
most  pleasant  to  dwell  upon.  It  was  there  the  brave  Mme. 
rvoland  uttered  many  a  solemn  truth;  there  Mme.  TalUen, 
in  whose  faultless  form  and  face  neither  sculptor  nor  pamter 
could  find  one  defect,  was  wont  to  hold  licr  court ;  and  Mme. 
Josephine  de  Beauharnais  often  wandered  amid  these  lovely 
ff-irdcns  where  the  fountains  threw  up  sparkling  columns,  and 
the  graceful  statues  seem  to  play  "  hide  and  seek  "  amid  the 

luxuriant  trees.  •,     -r,     .,  ^  rru:. 

From  the  Luxembourg  we  went  to  the  Pantheon.  This 
buildinc.  was  intended  to  be  a  kind  of  "  Westminster  Abbey," 
a  place°for  the  burial  of  the  illustrious  dead  ;  hence  the  m- 
scription,  beneath  the  figure  of  France,  "  A  grateful  Country 
to  its  Great  Men."  The  interior  is  very  fine.  The  dome 
was  painted  by  Baron  Gros.  It  represents  the  monarch^ 
of  France  rendering  homage  to  Saint  Genevieve,  the  patron 
saint  of  Paris.  In  the  crypt,  or  vaults  beneath,  are  the  tombs 
of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  and  of  many  other  distinguished 

"^'"in  our  drives  we  often  passed  the  tower  of  "  St.  Jacques 
de  la  Boncherie."  Upon  that  spot  there  was  once  a  church 
of  the  same  name.  It  was  destroyed  in  the  days  of  the  revo- 
lution The  tower  is  very  high,  and  of  elegant  proportions 
Not  far  from  this  relic  of  Gothic  architecture,  is  the  Hotel 
de  Ville  This  is  the  Mansion  House,  or  Municipal  Hall 
of  Paris  where  the  "  Prefect  de  la  Seine  "  resides,  and  where 
the  authorities  give  their  grand  entertainments.  It  is  upon 
the  "  Place  de  la  Gieve,"  famous  in  the  "  Bcign  of  Terror 
for  the  cruel  murders  committed  there. 

The  "  Hotel  de  Ville  "  is  a  large  building  with  towers 
and  turrets;  the  exterior  is  not  striking,  but  the  interior  is- 


116  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

splendid.  There  are  several  courts,  or  vestibules ;  that  of 
Louis  XIV.  is  magnificent.  The  staircases  are  of  marble,  and 
many  of  the  rooms  are  exceedingly  gorgeous — above  all,  the 
ball-room ;  it  has  Corinthian  pillars,  with  gilt  capitals  and 
cornices  ;  the  ceiling  is  painted  in  fresco,  and  the  furniture 
is  exceedingly  rich.  Then  the  "  Throne-Room  "  is  immense, 
and  superbly  decorated ;  there  Robespierre  held  his  court, 
and  at  one  of  its  windows  the  good  La  Fayette  presented 
Louis  Philippe  to  the  people  in  1830.  Poor  Louis  XVI.,  too, 
was  compelled  to  appear  at  another  window  with  a  liberty  cap 
upon  his  head,  in  the  days  of  the  Revolution.  Thus  this 
noble  apartment  may  be  styled  "  The  Historical  Chamber." 
There  are  a  great  number  of  rooms,  all  spacious,  and  orna- 
mented with  paintings,  rich  hangings,  and  statuary. 

Among  the  many  delightful  "  specialit^s "  of  Paris  is 
the  Flower-Market,  in  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine,  just  near 
the  noble  church.  In  our  walks  and  drives,  we  often  stopped 
to  admire  the  variety  of  flowers.  The  merchants  were  all 
women,  seated  near  their  fragrant  wealth,  and  urging  every 
one  to  buy.  There  were  quantities  of  flowers  growing  in  jars 
and  vases,  and  multitudes  of  bouquets,  which  the  vendors 
were  twining  and  tying  up  most  tastefully. 

Tl\ie  finale  of  our  day  was  a  visit,  with  a  party  of  friends, 
to  the  Opera  Comique,  to  hear  "  L'Ambassadrice."  Caroline 
Dupres  sustained  the  principal  role.  She  has  a  sweet  though 
not  a  powerful  voice.  But  the  mise  en  scene,  the  appoint- 
ments of  the  piece,  were  admirable.  The  instant  the  curtain 
falls,  numerous  criers  of  the  evening  journals  scream  out  in 
the  most  ear-piercing  tones,  "  La  Presse  !  "  "  La  Patrie  !  " 
"  L'Entre-Acte."  Those  who  remain  in  their  seats  purchase 
a  paper,  and  quietly  read  it.  The  others  seek  the  "  Foyer," 
where  they  meet  groups  of  friends,  eat  ices,  or  drink  eau 
sucres,  until  the  warning  bell  recalls   them  to  the  music. 


PALACE    OF   THE    TUILERIES.  117 

There  they  seem  perfectly  absorbed  in  it ;  for  not  a  whisper 
is  heard  during  the  performance. 

July  27th, — We  spent  some  hours  of  the  morning  in  the 
Palace  of  the  Tuileries,  which  was  begun  by  Catherine  de 
Medici,  in  1564,  but  never  completed,  in  consequence  of  the 
prediction  of  an  astrologer,  who  bade  her  "  Beware  of  that 
portion  of  Paris." 

Henry  IV.  continued  the  building.  All  the  kings  who 
came  after  him  made  additions  and  improvements.  During 
the  Revolution  fearful  scenes  were  enacted  there.  The 
Palace  is  more  remarkable  for  its  great  length  and  breadth, 
than  for  any  peculiar  architectural  beauty.  The  roofs  and 
chimneys  are  very  high. 

We  entered  by  the  Pavilion  of  Flora,  and  passed  en- 
tirely through  the  various  saloons  and  private  apartments. 
There  were  many  fine  paintings  of  the  modern  style,  curious 
ornaments,  mosaic  tables,  immense  clocks,  lustres  of  rock- 
crystal,  and  exquisite  vases  of  Sevres  china.  The  "Pavilion 
de  I'Horloge"  is  exceedingly  spacious.  Within  it  is  the 
Salle  des  Marechaux.  From  this  we  came  to  the  "  Gallery 
of  Louis  Philippe,"  which  is  used  as  a  ball-room.  It  is 
very  elegant,  and  gorgeously  furnished.  The  mirrors  are  of 
wondrous  size-  There  is  a  handsome  theatre  in  the  Palace. 
The  "  throne  room  "  is  hung  with  crimson  and  gold,  and 
contains  many  trophies  and  fine  pictures.  The  view  of  the 
gardens  of  the  Tuileries  from  the  front  windows  of  the 
Palace  is  charming.  A  broad  avenue  leads  up  to  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde,  while  lovely  parterres  of  flowers  are  directly 
in  front.  On  every  side  are  groups  of  statuary,  in  bronze 
and  in  marble.  Many  of  them  are  copies  of  the  world-re- 
nowned creations  of  the  old  sculptors.  The  grounds  are  di- 
vided from  the  Hue  Bivoli  by  an  iron  railing.  As  we  lived 
near  the  Tuileries,  I  went  every  day  to  walk  in  the  beautiful 


118  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

gardens.  It  was  a  delight  to  watch  the  throng  of  happy- 
children,  playing  beneath  the  leafy  shades.  From  early 
morning  until  the  night  came,  there  was  always  a  crowd. 

From  the  "  Palace  of  the  Kings  "  we  drove  to  the  ''  Ho- 
tel des  Invalides,"  where  we  saw  multitudes  of  war-worn 
A'eterans  seated  on  the  long  stone  benches  in  the  terrace,  near 
which  were  the  cannon  taken  in  battle.  This  admirable  in- 
stitution was  founded  by  Louis  XIV.,  in  1670.  It  is  of  vast 
length,  and  covers  many  acres  of  ground.  A  one-armed 
soldier  was  our  guide  through  the  Hotel.  In  the  Library 
we  saw  the  painting  of  "  Napoleon  crossing  the  Mont  St. 
Bernard."  It  is  a  splendid  picture,  awakening  emotions  of 
intense  admiration  for  the  heroic  general. 

As  we  had  a  special  permission,  we  were  enabled  to  visit 
the  Tomb  of  Napoleon.  This  is  immediately  under  the 
great  dome.  It  is  a  crypt,  in  which  will  be  placed  the  sar- 
cophagus containing  his  body.  The  crypt  is  circular,  with  a 
gallery  surrounding  it,  paved  with  marble.  There  are 
twelve  colossal  Caryatides,  which  support  it.  They  repre- 
sent War,  the  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  Legislation.  Directly 
around  the  tomb  of  red  porphyry  are  has  reliefs,  portraying 
the  most  important  events  in  the  life  of  the  Emperor.  Just 
beyond  this  is  a  magnificent  altar  of  black  marble.  Then 
comes  the  church,  filled  with  the  banners  taken  from  the 
enemy.     There  are  also  within  it  many  monuments. 

We  passed  around  the  gallery  overlooking  the  porphyry 
sarcophagus,  until  we  came  to  a  small  grated  door,  where  an 
old  maimed  soldier  was  standing.  Upon  raising  a  curtain 
we  saw  a  dimly-lighted  room,  in  whose  centre  was  the  coffin 
containing  the  body  of  Napoleon.  It  was  covered  by  a  black 
velvet  pall,  upon  which  were  placed  his  sword  and  hat ; 
around  the  walls  hung  many  other  articles  made  sacred 
from   once  having  been  his.     The  remains  are  kept  here, 


PLACE   DE   LA   BA  STILE.  119 

and  carefully  guarded  by  his  old  soldiers,  until  the  tomb 
shall  be  finished.  No  Roman  Emperor  had  ever  a  more 
magnificent  sepulchre ;  it  will  be  worthy  of  the  great  Napo- 
leon, and  equal  to  the  adoration  with  which  the  French 
nation  regard  this  wonderful  man.  The  old  veteran  told 
us  he  had  been  with  the  Emperor  in  nearly  all  his  battles. 
In  one  he  had  lost  a  leg,  in  another  an  arm.  How  radiant 
grew  his  aged  face  as  he  related  some  of  the  thrilling  scenes 
of  those  days. 

From  the  ''  Hotel  des  Invalides,"  we  drove  to  the  "  Place 
de  la  Bastile."  Upon  the  site  of  that  awe-inspiring  prison  has 
arisen  the  "  Column  of  July,"  erected  by  Louis  Philippe  to 
the  memory  of  those  wLo  fell  during  the  three  days  of  July, 
1830.  Its  height  is  about  a  hundred  and  sixty  feet;  upon 
the  summit  is  a  gilt  globe,  and  on  it  stands  a  most  graceful 
figure  with  wings  expanded,  a  torch  in  one  hand,  and  a 
broken  chain  in  the  other.  It  represents  the  "  Genius  of 
Liberty ;  "  the  broken  chain  is  symbolic  of  the  destruction 
of  tyranny,  and  the  torch  signifies  "light  to  the  whole 
world." 

As  it  was  a  fete  day,  we  went  down  to  Saint  Cloud, 
by  the  railway,  and  spent  a  few  hours  amid  the  beautiful 
grounds  which  encircle  this  delightful  palace.  Its  situation 
is  charming,  on  a  high  hill,  overlooking  Paris,  and  the  sur- 
rounding country,  for  many  miles.  It  was  the  much-loved 
residence  of  Josephine,  also  of  the  ill-fated  Marie  Antoinette. 
It  was  there  Henry  III.  was  killed  by  Clement  in  1589. 
Various  historical  events  of  importance  have  occurred  within 
its  walls.  The  crowd  was  immense ;  the  avenues  and  walks 
were  filled  with  a  happy,  merry  people :  they  seemed  charmed 
with  trifles,  and  in  ecstasies  with  a  party  of  tumblers,  who 
had  improvised  a  theatre  beneath  the  lofty  trees. 

Returning  to  Paris,  we  dined  at  the  Maison  Dor6e,  in 


120  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

the  Boulevard  des  Italiens.  This  is  a  most  gorgeously  dee- 
orated  restaurant.  Our  dinner  was  the  perfection  of  the 
French  cuisine.  After  it  we  had  a  long  walk  upon  the 
Champs  Elysees,  which  were  brilliant  with  the  splendid 
equipages  of  the  nobility,  and  the  gay  toilettes  of  the  women. 
It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  bright  and  joyous  scene, 
than  these  promenades  of  a  Sunday  or  of  a  fete  day.  We 
lingered  until  deep  night,  but  there  was  no  darkness,  the 
illuminations  were  so  numerous,  all  was  so  radiant  with  light. 
There  were  theatres  alfresco^  where  the  singers  were  render- 
ing the  music  of  the  opera  ;  then  a  kind  of  giant  windmill  or 
merry-go-round^  where  persons  were  seated  in  cars,  and  many 
riding  wooden  horses ;  they  were  whirling  round  and  round 
at  a  furious  pace,  seemingly  as  much  enchanted  as  though 
mounted  upon  an  Arabian  steed.  There  were,  too,  im- 
promptu ball-rooms,  and  concert- rooms;  panoramas  of  great 
battles,  and  restaurants  "  as  thick  as  the  leaves  in  Vallam- 
brosa."  The  general  enjoyment  was  so  contagious,  I  found 
myself  laughing  as  merrily  as  the  crowd,  at  the  performance 
of  a  clown  on  the  little  stage  just  in  front  of  us. 

Paris  is  certainly  wonderful,  and  mirth-provoking ;  it  is 
entirely  unique^  and  every  inhabitant  is  a  study.  Not  far 
from  us  were  seated  two  workmen  by  a  little  table,  upon 
which  was  placed  a  piece  of  dark  bread,  and  a  bottle  of 
claret;  there  was  such  an  air  of  self-content  about  them, 
that  we  w^atched  their  movements  ;  no  Emperor  of  Rome 
could  have  appeared  more  satisfied  with  existence  than  these 
two  laborers.  When  they  had  finished  their  repast,  one 
called  for  his  bill  with  a  loud  voice,  and  opening  a  package, 
took  out  a  few  sous^  and  paid  them  to  the  waiter ;  then 
lighted  his  pipe  and  walked  away  with  the  look  of  most  en- 
tire happiness. 

Beyond  the  gay  tumult  of  the  Champs  Elysees  (which 


DEPAETUKE  EKOM  PAKIS.  121 

is  particularly  great  near  the  avenues),  there  are  more  quiet 
and  lovely  walks,  where  on^  never  meets  a  throng.  Gardens 
and  lofty  trees,  and  open  squares,  with  a  rich  greensward — 
elegant  houses  and  arbors  'mid  the  clustering  vines,  "  invite 
a  long  delay."  The  delicious  fountains  of  the  "  Rond  Pont  " 
were  throwing  up  their  sparkling  waters  as  we  passed  into 
the  "  Place  de  la  Concorde."  I  never  crossed  it,  and  looked 
upon  its  splendor,  that  the  thought  of  Marie  Antoinette  did 
not  come  between  me  and  its  brightness,  and  Charlotte  Cor- 
day  too,  that  brave  enthusiast,  was  often  in  my  mind. 

Now,  wo  have  passed  through  the  gardens  of  the  Tuil- 
eries,  and  are  once  more  in  our  own  -parlor,  not  to  rest,  but 
to  prepare  for  a  "  pleasure  trip  "  through  Belgium,  and  up 
the  Ehine.  AYe  have  been  near  two  weeks  in  Paris.  As 
those  persons  to  whom  we  brought  letters  were  absent  from 
the  city,  at  their  chateaux,  or  at  the  watering  places,  we 
determined  to  devote  our  time  to  seeing  all  the  monuments 
of  Paris — to  visiting  the  galleries,  gardens,  and  theatres. 
Incessantly  have  we  been  occupied — delightfully  so,  however. 
At  dawn  we  shall  away  to  other  scenes  of  interest,  and  as  the 
numerous  clocks  (every  room  has  one)  have  long  ago  chimed 
out  the  midnight,  I  must  throw  aside  my  pen,  and  seek  a 
short  repose. 

Vol.  I._6 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

Brussels,  Avr/ust  1st. 
At  six  we  left  Paris.  The  morning  was  serenely  bright, 
and  the  country  through  which  we  passed,  fertile  and  flour- 
ishing. We  soon  came  to  Pontoise,  where  Blanche^  of  Cas- 
iile,  was  buried  in  1252 ;  then  to  lie  Adam,  famed  as  the 
dwelling-place  of  the  Flcur  de  Marie  of  the  "Mysteries  of 
Paris."  After  entering  the  valley  of  the  Oise,  we  saw  the  long 
village  of  Champagne,  a  name  so  well  known  to  the  entire 
world  from  its  wine.  The  vines  are  sufi"ered  to  climb  up  the 
trees ;  thence  they  wave  in  great  festoons.  They  are  not 
dipt  as  in  all  the  other  vineyards  of  the  valley.  Next  we 
saw  Creil,  which  once  contained  the  prison  of  Charles  VI., 
and  Clermoni,  with  its  church,  built  in  the  tenth  century; 
then  Am,iens,  with  its  grand  old  cathedral,  and  its  memories 
of  the  "Peace  of  Alliens;"  and  successively  Arras,  "the 
birth-place  of  Robespierre  ;  Douai,  with  its  immense  church 
and  lofty  tower ;  Valenciennes,  celebrated  for  its  exquisite 
lace  ;  Lille,  renowned  for  its  Palace  of  Bichehourg,  built  in 
1430;  and  Tournay,  for  its  ancient  cathedral.  There  we 
crossed  the  Scheldt,  and  by  five  o'clock  wore  at  Brussels,  in 
most  delightful  apartments  in  the  "  Belle  Vue." 

As  soon  as  we  dined  we  walked  out  to  see  the  city,  which 
is  really  worthy  of  being  called  "  a  second  Paris" — a  minia- 


THE   FIELD   OF   WATERLOO.  -  123 

ture  resemblance  of  the  enchanting  original.  The  houses  are 
built  in  the  same  style.  The  elegant  shops  are  furnished 
alike,  and  the  French  language  spoken  every  where,  although 
Flemish  is  the  native  tongue. 

The  Park  is  a  lovely  spot,  shaded  by  immense  trees,  said 
to  be  a  portion  of  the  virgin  forest.  There  are  avenues  and 
green  banks  of  turf — sheltered  walks  and  fountains.  A  band 
of  music  was  playing  in  a  pavilion,  and  throngs  of  gayly  drest 
women  and  robust-looking  men  were  sauntering  beneath  the 
''  leafy  shades." 

The  "  Hotel  de  Ville  "  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  Gothic 
architecture.  The  statue  of  the  bold  crusader,  Godfrey  de 
Bouillon,  ornaments  the  "  Place  Royale."  The  "  Hall  of 
Deputies  ■'  has  a  great  staircase  of  Belgian  marble,  and  a 
handsome  saloon  for  the  meetings  of  the  Representatives. 
The  "  King's  Palace  ''  is  a  spacious  building,  superbly  fur- 
nished. We  found  our  promenade  so  agreeable,  that  dark 
night  was  around  us,  ere  we  returned  to  our  hotel. 

At  the  Inn,  on  the  Field  of  Waterloo^  August  2d. — 
In  the  early  morning  light  we  left  Brussels,  and  drove  rapidly 
in  "a  stage-coach  along  the  highway  made  by  Napoleon.  We 
passed  the  forest  of  Soignes,  and  were  soon  accompanied  by 
an  escort  of  beggars,  who,  to  attract  our  special  attention, 
made  wheels  of  their  hands  and  feet,  and  rolled  around  like 
a  velocipede.  We  were  thus  followed  when  in  motion,  but 
at  the  stopping  places  a  circle  of  frightful  objects,  "  lame, 
maimed,  and  blind,"  beset  us  with  their  pitiable  entreaties 
for  charity. 

Once  upon  the  "■  Field  of  Waterloo,"  we  could  not  escape 
a  horde  of  guides,  English  and  French.  The  former  insist- 
ed they  alone  could  give  a  true  history  of  the  battle,  while 
the  latter  protested  the  English  were  too  boastful  to  do  jus- 
tice to  the  great  Emperor.     They  almost  came  to  blows  who 


124  SOUVENIES    OF   TKAVEL. 

should  possess  our  important  patronage.  We  \\  ere  absolutely 
compelled  to  compromise  the  matter  by  taking  iiuo^  thus 
hearing  the  version  of  each  side. 

The  plain  is  very  level,  and  is  covered  with  rich,  waving 
fields  of  grain.  The  growth  of  wheat,  the  guide  told  me,  was 
particularly  luxuriant  over  the  places  where  the  bodies  of 
the  soldiers  were  buried.  The  "  Chateau  of  Hougoumont  " 
still  remains  in  a  shattered  condition,  and  the  farm  of  "  La 
Haye  Sainte."  Several  other  houses,  bearing  the  impress  of 
the  bullets,  are  yet  preserved.  The  mound  of  the  "  Belgic 
Lion "  is  a  pyramid  of  earth  raised  over  the  remains  of 
friends  and  foes.  It  is  about  two  hundred  feet  high,  and  has 
a  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  summit,  upon  which  is  placed 
an  enormous  lion. 

After  walking  for  several  miles  over  the  fields,  and  listen- 
ing to  the  description  of  the  battle  from  both  guides,  of  which 
we  must  confess  we  understood  but  little,  not  being  especially 
versed  in  military  tactics,  we  sought  the  shelter  of  a  small 
dwelling,  wherein  the  owner  had  gathered  many  relics  of  the 
fight.  In  the  quiet  little  porch,  shaded  by  rose- vines  and 
fragrant  honeysuckles,  I  am  now  writing,  while  the  rest  of 
the  party  are  examining  rusty  swords  and  death-dealing  bul- 
lets. It  was  a  balmy,  delicious  day,  and  the  wind  came  over 
the  fields  of  grain,  giving  them  the  undulating  wave  of  the 
great  ocean.     A  deep  calmness  and  silence  prevailed. 

"  Gentle  nature  still  pursued 


Her  quiet  course,  as  if  she  took  no  care 

For  what  her  noblest  work  had  suffered  there." 

As  soon  as  the  carriage  came,  and  our  purchases  of  eagles, 
buttons,  and  other  relics  from  the  venders,  who  clustered 
around  us  like  bees,  were  completed,  we  left  the  battle-field, 
attended   by   the    same   human   whirligigs,    and    entreated, 


MANUFACTORY   OF   LACE.  125 

wherever  we  changed  horses,  by  the  same  plaintive  voices, 
"  For  the  love  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  charity."  Returning 
to  Brussels,  we  dined  at  a  most  sumptuous  table  d'hote  at 
the  Belle  Vue,  aud  then  proceeded  to  the  church  of  Saint 
Gudulc,  built  in  1435.  The  painted  glass  of  the  windows  is 
very  beautiful.  Several  are  by  Weyde,  done  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  There  are  monuments,  paintings  on  canvas,  aud 
tapestry,  woven  most  exquisitely.  The  pulpit  is  a  great 
curiosity.  It  is  entirely  of  oak,  carved  in  an  elaborate  man^ 
ner.  It  is  sustained  by  the  figures  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and 
the  angel  with  the  flaming  sword.  The  serpent  supports  the 
canopy,  while  above  its  head  is  the  Virgin  Mary,  holding  the 
infiint  Christ,  and  bruising  the  serpent's  head  with  the  cross. 

We  visited  several  galleries  of  pictures,  where  we  saw 
many  fine  paintings  by  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  and  Jan  Steen. 
In  a  private  palace  belonging  to  one  of  the  descendants  of 
the  Spanish  Princes,  we  were  delighted  with  a  Murillo,  rich, 
and  glowing  with  the  peculiar  light  he  ever  throws  around 
his  pictures.  Then  there  was  an  admirable  Velasquez.  The 
walls  of  some  of  the  rooms  were  covered  with  Spanish  leather, 
gorgeously  gilt.  Nearly  all  the  windows  upon  the  streets 
have  small  mirrors  hanging  out.  They  are  so  arranged  that 
those  within  can  see  reflected  all  passing  without,  while  they 
are  perfectly  invisible.  The  library  founded  by  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  contains  manuscripts  of  great  value. 

In  the  Palace  of  Justice  we  saw  the  room  where  Charles 
the  Fifth  abdicated  in  favor  of  Philip  the  Second;  and, 
crossing  the  square,  we  looked  upon  the  spot  where  Horn 
and  Egmont  were  beheaded  by  the  cruel  Duke  of  Alba. 

We  next  visited  the  manufactory  of  lace,  for  which 
Brussels  is  so  remarkable.  It  is  made  in  large  rooms  by 
the  hands  of  women,  who  form  each  sprig,  tendril,  bud,  and 
leaf  separately,  and  then  they  are  sewed  on  to  the  plain  net. 


120  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

In  one  room  there  were  about  twenty  femaies,  with  large 
cushions  on  their  knees,  over  which  they  were  bending. 
Upon  these  were  multitudes  of  small  needles,  to  which  they 
fastened  the  thread,  as  they  wove  it  into  leaves  or  flowers. 
It  is  a  most  difficult  and  tedious  labor,  excessively  painful 
from  the  constrained  attitude  the  women  are  compelled  to 
maintain.  Poor  creatures,  how  we  pitied  them  !  They  all 
had  an  unhealthy,  pallid  appearance.  In  the  show-room  we 
saw  some  wonders  of  delicate  workmanship.  One  flounce 
alone  was  worth  one  thousand  dollars,  and  a  bridal  veil  was 
valued  at  fifteen  hundred.  As  I  looked  at  the  beautiful 
tracery  upon  the  lace,  like  the  spider's  web  when  the  morn- 
ing dew  has  left  its  embroidery  of  minute  pearls,  I  thought 
of  the  weary  fingers  and  the  aching  eyes  which  had  toiled 
over  it. 

From  the  manufactory  we  drove  to  the  "  Alice  Verte," 
a  most  delightful  road,  very  wide,  with  large  trees  overhang- 
ing it  with  their  spreading  branches.  It  runs  just  along  the 
bank  of  the  canal  which  leads  to  Mecklin.  This  is  the 
"  Hyde  Park  "  or  "  Bois  de  Boulogne  "  of  Brussels,  where 
all  the  fashion  of  the  Belgian  capital  take  their  evening 
drives.  This  charming  "  Allee  Yerte  "  was  spared  by  Mar- 
shal Saxe  when  he  besieged  the  city  in  1746.  The  women 
of  Brussels  all  joined  in  supplications  that  it  might  not  be 
destroyed,  and  Saxe  most  gallantly  granted  their  request. 
Barely  have  I  spent  two  more  enchanting  hours  than  during 
our  pleasant  drive.  As  we  were  returning  we  passed  the 
Botanic  Gardens.  They  are  extensive  and  tastefully  ar- 
ranged. At  night  the  Park  was  illuminated  for  some  fete, 
and  a  merry  crowd  filled  it  until  a  late  hour. 

August  od. — At  dawn  we  were  up  and  away  for  Cologne. 
As  we  drove  to  the  station  we  saw  the  house  where  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond  gave  her  grand  ball  on  the  eve  of  the 


THE   BIllTir-rLACE   OF   CHARLEMAGNE.  127 

Battle  of  Waterloo.  Wellington  and  many  of  his  ofl5eers 
were  present.  What  a  contrast  was  the  succeeding  night  of 
carnage  and  death  ! 

A  few  miles  from  Brussels  we  passed  the  Palace  of 
Laeken.  The  gardens  and  parks  are  of  vast  extent.  In 
the  cemetery  of  Laeken,  Madame  Malibran  is  buried.  Her 
body  was  brought  from  Manchester.  There  is  on  the  tomb, 
or  near  it,  a  marble  statue  of  her. 

The  first  important  town  near  which  the  railway  passed 
after  leaving  Brussels  was  Malines,  or  Mecklin.  It  has 
many  historical  associations,  as  there  Charles  the  Bold 
founded  the  Imperial  Chamber  in  1473.  But  a  more  touch 
ing  interest  lingers  about  it  from  Bulwer's  "  Story  of  the 
Heart."     Malines  was  the  home  of  the  faithful  Lucille. 

At  Fesche  we  were  drawn  up  by  a  stationary  engine  to 
the  summit  of  a  hill,  whence  we  had  a  most  exquisite  view. 
The  valley  of  the  Mense  is  exceedingly  picturesque,  and  the 
city  of  Liege,  with  its  cupolas,  domes,  and  towers,  presents  a 
fine  picture  of  commerce  and  prosperity.  In  Liege,  Walter 
Scott  lays  the  scenes  of  Quentin  Durward.  It  appears  to  be 
a  great  manufacturing  town. 

From  thence  we  passed  many  flourishing  villages,  and 
stopped  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  in  Prussia,  the  birth-place  of 
Charlemagne,  and  also  containing  his  tomb.  It  is  celebrated 
for  its  springs,  and  crowds  flock  thither  each  year.  The 
Cathedral  has  many  precious  relics,  which  are  exhibited  only 
once  in  seven  years,  when  pilgrims  by  thousands  assemble  to 
look  upon  them.  Among  the  most  sacred  are  a  lock  of  the 
Virgin's  hair,  and  a  nail  from  the  true  cross. 

The  railway  continues  through  a  fertile  country,  passing 
many  tunnels  cut  through  the  hills.  About  five  we  reached 
Cologne,  or  Koln,  a  fortified  city  on  the  Rhine.  We  drove 
through  the  narrow  streets  to  the  Hotel  DiscJi,  a  splendid 


12S  SOUVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

hotel.  We  did  not  tarry  long  within  it,  however,  but 
started  out  to  see  the  Dom  Kirche,  or  Cathedral,  which  was 
commenced  in  1248,  and  is  not  yet  completed.  It  was  in- 
tended to  be  the  grandest  of  churches.  The  plan  is  admi- 
rable and  majestic,  but  the  ruined  state  it  now  presents  is 
quite  mournful.  The  stained  glass  windows  are  beautiful. 
There  are  several  monuments  and  paintings ;  but  the  glory 
of  all  is  the  choir,  of  immense  height,  with  pillars  and 
arches  so  far  above  one,  they  seem  like  the  branches  of  great 
trees  interlaced.  The  sacristan  showed  us  the  shrine  of  the 
"  Three  Kings  of  Cologne,"  or  the  Magi,  who  presented  the 
offerings  to  the  infant  Saviour.  Their  skulls  are  preserved 
in  cases,  and  each  has  the  name  inscribed  upon  it.  The  Em- 
peror Frederick  Barbarossa  gave  them  to  Cologne,  and  this 
Cathedral  was  built  to  contain  them. 

The  Church  of  "  St.  Ursula  and  of  the  Eleven  Thousand 
Virgins,"  who,  returning  from  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome  to  their 
native  Brittany,  were  murdered  at  Cologne  by  the  Huns,  is 
a  curious  old  place,  filled  with  bones.  They  meet  the  eye  in 
all  directions.  There  are  many  other  churches  with  valuable 
paintings  and  relics. 

Cologne  is  of  great  antiquity.  It  was  built  upon  the  site 
of  the  Roman  camp  of  "  Marcus  Agrippa."  The  mother  of 
Nero  was  born  there  in  the  tent  of  her  father  Germanicus. 
When  she  became  Empress  she  sent  a  colony  thither,  who 
called  the  city  "  Colonia  Agrippina."  Between  the  twelfth 
and  fifteenth  centuries  Cologne  was  styled  the  "  Rome  of  the 
North."  Caxton  lived  there  in  1470,  and  learned  the  art  of 
printing.  The  "  Cologne  Water  "  of  "  Jean  Farina  "  is  known 
to  the  whole  world;  there  are,  at  least,  forty  houses  all  claim- 
ing to  be  the  ''  Original  Manufactory."  The  Mumm  Cham- 
pagne is  also  made  here,  and  just  vis-d-vis  to  my  window  is 


COLOGNE.  '  129 

an  immense  building  containing  thousands  and  thousands  of 
bottles. 

The  river  is  crossed  here  by  a  bridge  of  boats,  as  no  other 
can  resist  the  rapidity  of  the  current. 
Vol.  L_6* 


CIIAPTEE  XYII. 

Aufficst  Ath. 
At  six  we  were  on  board  the  little  steamer  Konig;  the 
river — the  Rhine — was  broad,  swift,  and  deep  ;*  thus  we 
slowly  ascended  the  "legendary  stream."  It  was  not  until 
the  "  Siebengebirge  "  or  Seven  Mountains  rose  to  view,  that' 
the  glories  of  the  Rhine  were  revealed  in  all  their  matchless 
grandeur.  No  description  I  have  ever  read  approaches  the 
reality,  save  the  verses  of  the  most  impassioned  of  poets. 
How  wonderfully,  how  truthfully,  has  Byron  pictured  in 
glowing  words  the  beauty  of  scenery  which  meets  the  eye 
on  every  side.     First : 

"  The  castled  crag  of  Drachenfels 

Frowns  o'er  the  wide  and  winding  Rhine 
Whose  breast  of  waters  broadly  swells 

Between  the  banks  which  bear  the  vine. 
And  hills  all  rich  with  blossomed  trees, 

And  fields  which  promise  corn  and  wine, 
And  scattered  cities  crowning  these, 

Whose  far  white  walls  along  them  shine." 

Then  comes  the  ruined  tower  of  Rolandseck,  crowning 
the  summit  of  a  lofty  mountain ;  just  below  is  the  Island 
of  Nonnenwarth,  with  its  convent  half  hidden  amid  the  trees. 
Faithful  love  has  consecrated  these  ruins,  and  through  long 


legp:nd  of  the  island  convent.  131 

centuries  has  preserved,  fresh  and  pure,  its  toucliing  legend 
of  the  noble  knight,  who,  returning  to  claim  his  promised 
bride,  finds  her  the  inmate  of  the  island  convent.  False 
tidings  of  his  death  had  reached  her,  and  in  despair  she  had 
cast  herself  within  this  living  tomb.  She  was  lost  to  him. 
for  ever ;  and  he  built  the  tower  from  whence  he  could  look 
down  upon  the  green  isle  :  gazing  upon  those  white  walls, 
which  enshrined  all  that  life  possessed  most  dear  to  him,  he 
spent  tne  weary  years,  till  death  summoned  him  away. 

After  passing  the  Drachenfels,  the  river  spreads  out  into 
a  lake,  entirely  bounded  every  where  by  mountain^and  hills. 
But  a  sudden  turn  brought  us  around  a  rocky  parapet,  and 
onward 

"  The  noble  river  foams  and  flows, 

The  charm  of  this  enchanted  ground, 
And  all  its  thousand  turns  disclose 

Some  fresher  beauty  varying  round." 

The  Gothic  church  and  convent  of  Apollinarisburg  came 
next  in  the  moving  panorama,  and  the  basaltic  rocks  rising 
abruptly  from  the  river  many  hundred  feet.  They  bear  the 
impress  of  volcanic  origin,  and  are  dark  and  stern  ;  but  even 
to  their  summit,  amid  the  crevices,  are  placed  baskets  con- 
taining earth,  in  w^hich  the  vines  are  planted.  As  they  re- 
quire infinite  care  and  attention,  those  who  tend  them  are 
compelled  to  climb  upon  long  ladders  from  cliff  to  cliff;  vwe 
saw  the  peasants  thus  engaged,  hanging,  as  it  were,  over  the 
water.  Upon. a  high  rock  were  the  Ruins  of  Hammerstein, 
the  refuge  of  the  Emperor  Henry  IV.  in  1105,  and  not  far 
distant  the  towers  of  Andernacli  and  the  village  of  Named}^, 
with  its  green  lanes,  near  the  rushing  river.  Then  came  a 
gently  undulating  country  until  we  reached  the  "  Banks  of 
the  Blue  Moselle,"  which  flows  into  the  Rhine  at  Coblentz, 
(the  Confluentes  of  the  Romans,)  a  handsome  walled  city  of 


132  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

great  antiquity,  where  the  grandsons  of  Charlemagne  as- 
sembled to  divide  his  mighty  empire  into  France,  Germany, 
and  Italy.  A  bridge  of  boats  unites  it  to  EhrenhreitsUin^ 
"the  Gibraltar  of  the  Rhine."  Dark  and  massive  arose  the 
towers  of  this  magnificent  fortress;  it  was  a  castle  built  by 
the  Romans,  and  in  later  days  often  besieged  by  the  French, 
who  finally  conquered  it  in  1799,  after  starvation  had  forced 
a  capitulation.  They  blew  up  the  fortifications,  but  since 
that  period,  the  Prussians  have  rebuilt  it  stronger  than  be- 
fore. Of  its  ruined  state,  Byron  writes  most  exquisitely  : 
• 

"  Ehreubreitstein  with  her  shattered  wall 

Black  with  the  miner's  blast  upon  her  height, 
Yet  shows  of  what  she  was,  when  shells  and  ball 

Rebounding  idly  on  her  strength  did  light. 

A  tower  of  victory !  from  whence  the  flight 
Of  baffled  foes  was  watched  along  the  plain ; 

But  peace  destroyed  -nhat  war  could  never  blight, 
And  laid  those  proud  walls  bare  to  summer's  rain, 
On  Avhich  the  iron  shower  had  poured  in  vain." 

The  fortress  was  never  destroyed  until  after  the  peace  of 
Luneville. 

Ehreubreitstein  signifies  "  honor's  broad  stone,"  which 
has  been  so  often  bathed  in  the  warm  life-blood  of  noble 
hearts.  Long  we  gazed  upon  the  impregnable  fortress,  and 
fully  realized  Rulwer's  description  :  "  Still,  as  we  look  on 
that  lofty  rock,  we  recall  the  famine  and  the  siege ;  and  own 
that  the  more  daring  crimes  of  men  have  a  strange  privi- 
le<Te  in  hallowing  the  very  spot  which  they  devastated." 

After  leaving  Coblentz,  we  seemed  to  enter  a  region  of 
enchantment;  every  mountain-top  was  crowned  with  a  pic- 
turesque ruin,  rendered  sacred  by  some  wild  legend  of  the 
past,  or  some  memory  of  the  chivalric  age.  It  was  as  though 
we  were  "passing  back  adown  the  river  of  time,"  and  every 


CASTLE   OF    STOLZENFELS.  133 

steep  rock  and  gray  tower  had  its  own  tlirilling  history.  I 
drew  away  from  the  crowd,  and,  seated  upon  the  prow  of  the 
steamer,  gave  up  my  soul  to  enthusiastic  enjoyment  of  the 
scene.  As  mountain,  castle,  village,  and  vineyard  glided  past 
me,  I  lovingly  gazed  upon  them,  as  though  they  were  beauti- 
ful pictures  whose  remembrance  I  would  fain  stamp  upon 
my  mind  for  ever. 

"And  if  reluctantly  the  eyes  resign 
Their  cherished  gaze  upon  thee,  lovely  Rhine, 
'Tis  with  the  thankful  glance  of  parting  praise." 

Not  far  above  Coblentz  is  the  Castle  of  Stolzenfels,  (the 
proud  rock.)  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  feudal  fortresses ;  built 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Treves,  and  occupied  in  1235,  by  the 
bride  of  Frederick  II.  It  has  been  entirely  restored  by  the 
King  of  Prussia,  (for  after  its  capture  by  the  French  it  was 
left  in  ruins,)  and  was  used  in  1845,  as  the  reception  castle 
for  Queen  Victoria,  when  she  ascended  the  "  King  Rhine," 
as  the  Germans  often  call  this  river.  Then  came  the  islands 
of  Oberwerth  and  Hocheim,  where  grow  the  ruby  grape  from 
whose  juice  is  made  the  famous  wine  Hocheimer.  Next, 
on  a  lofty  parapet  of  rock,  was  tKe  tower  of  Marksburg. 
This  castle  is  remarkable,  as  being  the  only  one  preserved 
from  destruction,  and  still  revealing  all  the  horrors  of  terrible 
dungeons  cut  in  the  living  rock,  of  chambers  of  torture,  and 
of  the  "  Hundloch^''  where  the  victim  was  cast  upon  sharp 
swords  and  pikes.  The  mountains  are  covered  to  the  very 
summit  with  vineyards ;  at  intervals  there  are  fields  of  grain 
of  a  golden  hue,  making  a  rich  contrast  with  the  deep  green 
of  the  vine. 

At  Boppart,  an  old  town  built  by  the  Romans,  there  are 
many  relics  of  the  ancient  kings.  I  sought  eagerly  for  the 
"  Star  Inn,"  which  is  spoken  of  in  "  Hyperion,"  and  fancied 


134  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

I  saw  the  "  fair  boatwoman "  sitting  upon  its  steps.  Not 
far  above  this  old  town  are  two  mountain  peaks,  with  their 
"  traditionary  castles  "  of  Llebenstein  and  Sternsfels.  The 
ruins  are  massive  and  grand,  and  the  "  Legend  of  the 
Brothers,"  so  eloquently  told  by  Bulwer,  threw  a  halo 
around  them ;  we  could  picture  their  glory  and  magnificence 
in  those  days  of  chivalry,  and  the  gentle  beauty  of  Leoline, 
the  rude  grace  of  Wai'hecky  and  the  wild  gaiety  of  Otho. 
Then  came  the  castles  called  ^^tJie  Caf''  and  ^^  the  Mouse  ^''^  on 
two  high  mountains  near  each  other.  Tradition  tells  of  the 
long  enmity  of  the  fierce  lords  or  barons,  who  owned  them, 
and  of  their  constant  warfare. 

On  a  lofty  rock,  just  above  the  handsome  town  of  St. 
Goar,  was  the  grand  old  ruin  of  Rheinfels,  the  most  exten- 
sive fortress,  in  its  days  of  power,  of  any  upon  the  river. 
It  was  the  Castle  of  the  Count  of  Katzenclnhogen^  where  in 
1*245  he  exacted  toll  from  all  passing  up  or  down.  His  in- 
justice so  enraged  the  people,  that  the  German  and  Rhenish 
cities  formed  the  "  Confederation  of  the  Rhine,"  which 
eventually  destroyed  the  strongholds  of  these  chieftains.  In 
1794  it  was  blown  up  by  the  French,  and  has  never  been  re- 
built. Its  shattered  battlements  and  its  broken  arches  still 
speak  of  the  grandeur  of  tJie  feudal  times.  Near  the  town 
of  St.  Goar  lived  the  hermit  from  whom  comes  its  name. 
There  he  dwelt,  in  utter  solitude,  save  when  he  came  forth 
to  preach"  the  "  Religion  of  the  Cross." 

We  passed  St.  Goarhausen,  where  a  long  valley  opened 
between  the  mountains,  filled  with  many  waterfalls.  Then 
the  scenery  became  more  wild  and  majestic.  The  river  was 
hemmed  in  by  high  walls,  six  hundred  feet  in  height ;  they 
were  bold  and  desolate,  and  there  was  the  Lurlei  Berg^ 
where  the  "Nymph  of  the  Lurlei"  enchanted  the  boatman 
by  her  voice,  while  the  Gewirr  (or  whirlpool)  engulfed  his 


SEVEN    PETEIFIED    MAIDENS.  135 

frail  bark.  There  is  a  remarkable  echo  along  these  colossal 
cliflfs,  which  is  repeated  twelve  times.  A  man  lives  in  a 
grotto  on  the  mountain-side,  who  sounds  a  bugle  and  fires  a 
pistol  as  the  steamer  passes,  thus  awakening  the  "  Echo  of 
Lurlei."  When  thej  had  all  died  away,  we  found  ourselves 
at  the  town  of  Obcrmesel,  (once  the  Yesalia  of  the  Romans.) 
Above  it  are  the  ruins  of  Schonberg,  (beautiful  hill.)  Tliis 
was  the  home  of  the  ancestors  of  the  illustrious  family  of  the 
hero  of  Boyne.  In  the  river  below  it  are  seven  rocks  which 
tradition  says  were  the  seven  lovely  daughters  of  the  ancieat 
baron.  They  won  all  the  hearts  of  the  neighboring  knights, 
then  spurned  them  with  bitter  scorn ;  whereupon  they  were 
changed  into  rock,  as  flinty  and  cold  as  their  own  bosoms — 
{hy  ivhom,  ilie  legend  does  not  say.)  A  short  distance  above 
is  the  ruin  of  Gutenfels,  renowned  in  love  and  glory.  It 
bears  the  name  of  the  beautiful  woman  beloved  by  an  em- 
peror ;  and  there  Gustavus  Adolphus  issued  his  command 
for  the  battle  with  the  Spaniards,  during  the  "  Thirty  Years' 
War." 

In  the  centre  of  the  river,  we  passed  the  queer  old  town 
of  Pfalz.  It  was  built  for  a  toll-house;  although  in  the 
olden  time  it  was  used  as  a  place  of  security  and  refuge  for 
women  and  children,  in  periods  of  wild  and  reckless  war. 
fare.  To  this  little  island  "  Louis  le  Debonnaire  "  came,  in 
840,  worn  out  with  cares  and  sorrows,  and  died  there.  On 
the  bank  near  the  Pfalz  is  the  town  of  Caub,  where  Bliicher's 
army  crossed  the  river,  in  1814.  It  is  told  of  the  soldiers, 
that  when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  stream,  they  fell  upon 
their  knees  and  cried  out,  "  the  Rhine  !  the  Rhine !  "  A 
German  with  whom  I  was  talking,  as  we  glided  along,  related 
to  me  many  stories  of  the  adoration  of  the  people  for  the 
Rhine.  They  seem  to  feel  for  it  a  warm  and  passionate  love. 
As  the  Egyptian    regards   the  Nile  with  worship — as   the 


136  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

Hindoo  the  sacred  Ganges — thus  do  the  Germans  reverence 
the  Rhine. 

Bacharach,  with  its  antique  encircling  walls,  was  our  next 
point  of  interest.  Just  in  front  of  the  town  is  the  rock  called 
the  Bacclii  Ara^  (the  Altar  of  Bacchus.)  When  tlje  season 
is  a  dry  one,  this  rock  is  above  the  waters.  Its  appearance 
is  a  token  the  vintage  will  be  a  good  one,  hence  there  is 
great  rejoicing  among  the  peasants.  Beyond  the  village 
were  the  ruins  of  Stahlech,  and  of  the  Church  of  St.  "Werner. 
Only  a  portion  of  the  lofty,  pointed  windows  yet  remain,  like 
a  scroll  of  delicate  workmanship  against  the  blue  sky.  The 
ancient  Tower  of  Furstenberg,  and  the  ruins  of  Nollengen, 
seemed  to  cling  to  the  side  of  the  bold  precipice,  while  be- 
tween them  was  the  echoing  vale  of  Rheindeibach. 

At  Lorch,  the  Bheingau,  or  Rhine  Valley,  begins.  It  is 
famous  for  its  fertility,  and  the  excellence  of  the  wines  made 
from  the  grapes  of  its  vineyards,  which  are  sheltered,  from 
the  north,  by  the  Taunus  Mountains.  So  admirable  is  deem- 
ed the  exposure,  that  every  foot  of  ground  is  planted.  From 
the  edge  of  the  river  to  the  summit  of  the  hills,  there  are  ter- 
races, built  up  with  heavy  masonry ;  upon  these  the  vines 
are  growing.  It  is  only  by  means  of  ladders  the  vine  dress- 
ers can  reach  them,  and  we  constantly  saw  men  and  women 
climbing  up  the  precipices,  like  patient  ants,  with  baskets  on 
their  shoulders,  conveying  earth  or  water  to  refresh  the  roots 
of  the  vines.  Along  this  valley  I  was  perfectly  bewildered 
with  the  multitude  of  castles  and  ruined  towers,  built  upon 
cliffs  so  steep  and  high,  they  appeared  inaccessible  to  any 
but  birds  of  the  air. 

The  Castle  of  Rheinstien  has  been  restored  from  a  min, 
to  a  splendid  residence  for  Prince  Frederick  of  Prussia. 
Below  it  is  a  narrow  pass,  cut  in  the  rock,  called  the  "  Jew's 
Toll,"  where  the  poor  Hebrews  were  commanded  to  pass,  and 


TOWN    OF   BINGEN.  137 

yield  up  a  certain  amount  of  their  treasure,  or  else  to  meet 
a  terrible  death  in  the  foaming  waters. 

At  the  juncture  of  the  Nahe  and  Rhine  is  the  tower  of 
Bishop  Halto,  where  he  was  eaten  up  by  the  rats,  "  in  pun- 
ishment for  his  wicked  deeds."  Southey  has  made  a  ballad 
of  this  legend.  Not  far  from  the  tower  was  the  bridge,  first 
built  in  1011,  by  the  Romans.  It  is  said  now  to  rest  upon 
the  old  foundation  of  the  original  structure.  When  this  was 
passed,  the  river  spread  itself  out  into  a  calm  lake,  bounded 
on  all  sides  by  the  vine-clad  hills,  and  gemmed  with  little 
green  isles,  from  whose  shores  the  willows  drooped  into  the 
waters.  It  was  an  evening  of  uncommon  beauty,  and  the 
sunlight  fell  brightly  upon  the  ancient  town  of  Bingen.  It 
was  a  lovely  spot,  and  to  me  it  had  an  especial  charm,  not 
only  from  the  gentle  loveliness  of  its  scenery,  but  from  the 
memory  of  a  sweet  poem,  repeated  to  me  in  "  days  long  pass- 
ed," by  a  dear  and  gifted  friend.  How  well  I  remembered 
the  intonations  of  that  musical  voice,  which  imparted  a 
greater  merit  to  the  story  of  the  Soldier  of  the  Legion  dying 
in  Algiers,  who,  with  his  parting  breath,  charges  his  comrade 
watching  over  him,  to  take  his  words  of  love  to  the  dear 
ones  at  "  Bingen  on  the  Rhine." 

"A  Soldier  of  the  Legion  lay  dying  in  Algiers  ; 
There  was  lack  of  woman's  nursing,  there  was  lack  of  woman's  tears ; 
But  a  comrade  stood  beside  him,  while  his  life-blood  ebbed  away, 
And  bent,  with  pitying  glances,  to  hear  what  he  might  say. 
The  dying  soldier  faltered,  as  he  took  his  comrade's  hand, 
And  he  said,  I  never  more  shall  see  my  own,  my  native  land; 
Take  a  message  and  a  token  to  some  distant  friends  of  mine, 
For  I  was  born  at  Bingen,  at  Bingen  on  the  Ehine. 

"  Tell  my  brothers  and  companions,  when  they  meet  and  crowd  around, 
To  hear  my  mournful  story,  in  the  pleasant  vineyard  ground, 
That  we  fought  the  battle  bravely,  and  when  the  day  was  done, 
Full  many  a  corse  lay  ghastly  pale,  beneath  the  setting  sun ; 
And  'midst  the  dead  and  dying,  were  some  grown  old  in  wars. 
The  death-wounds  on  their  gallant  breasts,  the  last  of  many  scars ; 
And  some  were  yonng,  and  suddenly  beheld  life's  noon  decline, 
And  one  had  come  from  Bingen.  fair  Bingen  on  the  Bhlne. 


138  SOUYENIKS    OF   TEAVEL. 

"  Tell  my  Mother  that  her  sons  shall  comfort  her  old  age, 
And  I  was  still  a  truant-bird,  that  thought  his  home  a  cage ; 
For  my  Father  was  a  soldier,  and  even  as  a  child, 
My  heart  leaped  forth  to  hear  him  tell  of  struggles  fierce  and  wild ; 
And  when  he  died  and  left  us  to  divide  his  scanty  hoard, 
I  let  them  take  whate'er  they  would— but  kept  my  father's  sword. 
And  with  boyish  love  I  hung  it,  where  the  bright  light  used  to  shine, 
On  the  cottage  wall  at  Bingen— calm  Bingen  on  the  Ehine. 

'•Tell  my  sister  not  to  weep  for  me,  and  sob  with  drooping  head. 
When  the  troops  are  marching  home  again,  with  gay  and  gallant  tread; 
But  to  look  upon  them  proudly,  with  a  calm  and  steadfast  eye. 
For  her  brother  was  a  soldier,  too,  and  not  afraid  to  die ; 
And  if  a  comrade  seek  her  love,  I  ask  her,  in  my  name 
To  listen  to  him  kindly,  without  regret  or  shame; 
And  to  hang  the  old  sword  in  its  place,  (my  father's  sword  and  mine,) 
For  the  honor  of  old  Bingen — dear  Bingen  on  the  Rhine. 

"  There's  another— not  a  sister— in  the  happy  days  gone  by. 
You  'd  have  known  her,  by  the  merriment  that  sparkled  in  her  eye. 
Too  innocent  for  coquetry— too  fond  for  idle  scorning— 
Oh!  friend;  I  fear  the  lightest  heart  makes  sometimes  heaviest  mourning. 
Tell  her  the  last  night  of  my  life,  (for  ere  the  sun  be  risen, 
My  body  will  be  out  of  pain,  my  soul  be  out  of  prison,) 
I  dreamed  I  stood  with  her,  and  saw  the  yellow  sunlight  shiue 
On  the  vine-clad  hills  of  Bingen— Mr  Bingen  on  the  Ehine. 

"  I  saw  the  blue  Ehine  sweep  along,— I  heard,  or  seemed  to  hear. 
The  German  songs  we  used  to  sing,  in  chorus  sweet  and  clear. 
And  down  the  pleasant  river,  and  up  the  pleasant  hill. 
The  echoing  chorus  sounded,  through  the  evening  calm  and  still. 
And  her  glad  blue  eyes  were  on  me,  as  we  passed  with  friendly  talk, 
Down  many  a  path  beloved  of  yore,  and  well-remembered  walk ; 
And  her  little  hand  lay  lightly,  confidingly  in  mine- 
But  we'll  meet  no  more  at  Bingen— loved  Bingen  on  the  Ehine. 

"Ills  voice  grew  faint  and  hoarser,  his  grasp  was  childish  weak. 
His  eyes  put  on  a  dying  look— he  sighed,  and  ceased  to  speak. 
His  comrade  bent  to  lift  him,  but  the  spark  of  life  had  fled, — 
The  Soldier  of  the  Legion  in  a  foreign  land  was  dead ! 
And  the  soft  moon  rose  up  slowly,  ami  calmly  she  looked  down 
On  the  red  sand  of  the  battle-field,  with  bloody  corpses  strown, 
Yea,  calmly  on  that  dreadful  scene,  her  pale  light  seemed  to  shine, 
As  it  did  in  distant  Bingen— fair  Bingen  on  the  Ehine." 

From  "  Bingen — calm  Bingen  on  the  Rliine,"  we  crossed 
the  river  to  the  village  of  Ass7nanshausen,  celebrated  for 


LEGEND    OF   THE   FAIR   GISELA.  139 

its  wine,  which  is  made  from  the  grapes  grown  upon  terraces, 
in  many  places  a  thousand  feet  above  the  stream  ;  there  also 
is  the  Bingerloch,  filled  with  whirlpools,  and  the  ruin  of 
Ehrenfels,  clinging,  as  it  were,  to  the  precipice,  which  rises 
abruptly  from  the  water,  like  a  great  battlement. 

Rudesheim  is  also  famous  for  its  wine,  and  for  the  legend 
of  the  beautiful  Gisela.  She  was  commanded  by  her  father 
to  become  a  nun,  in  fulfilment  of  his  vow  made  in  Palestine, 
during  the  crusade  against  the  Saracens.  But  in  his  absence 
the  fair  maiden  had  loved,  and  was  beloved  by  a  gallant 
kniffht.     No  entreaties  could  move   the   stern  heart  of  her 

o 

parent,  and  Gisela  sprang  from  the  tower  into  the  rushiug 
Rhine,  thus  ending  life  and  misery.  The  boatmen  say,  her 
spirit  still  lingers  about  the  Bingerloch,  and  her  wailing  cries 
often  mingle  with  the  "  voices  of  the  winds." 

From  Bingen  to  Bieberich  the  Rhine  is  exceedingly  wide, 
with  clusters  of  little  islands,  seeming  in  the  distance  as 
greenly  enamelled  as  "  the  fairy  isles  of  Calypso." 

Upon  an  immense  hill,  whose  slopes  are  terraced  to  the 
verge  of  the  river,  stood  the  Chateau  of  Johannisherg^  be- 
longino-  to  Count  Metternich.  The  finest  of  the  Rheinish 
wines  is  made  there.  The  vines  are  planted  up  to  the  marble 
steps,  and  the  vintage  is  many  weeks  later  than  elsewhere. 

By  villages  and  villas  we  passed  on  through  the  bridge 
of  boats  to  Mainz  (or  Mayence),  a. city  built  upon  the  site  of 
the  Roman  camp  of  Drusus.  Our  evening  walk  through  the 
town  was  full  of  interest.  We  saw  the  vast  cathedral,  com- 
menced in  the  tenth  century^  the  theatre,  and  public  gar- 
dens. Mainz  will  be  ever  niemorable  as  the  birth-place  of 
Gutemherg,  the  inventor  of  printing.  His  statue,  modelled 
by  Thorwaldsen  (the  Danish  sculptor),  is  in  the  open  square, 
near  the  theatre.  Then  it  was  there,  also,  lived  Walpoden, 
who  first  formed  the  Hanseatic  League,  for  freeing  commerce 


140  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

from   the   exactions  of  the  bold  robbers,  whose  castles  over- 
spread all  these  fair  domains. 

"We  tarried  all  night  *  at  an  excellent  inn  by  the  water's 
edge,  and  at  early  morning  embarked  again  for  Manheim. 
The  shores  of  the  stream  were  no  longer  remarkable,  and, 
save  the  city  of  Worms,  there  was  nothing  to  attract  the  at- 
tention.    At  Manheim  we  left  the  "  beautiful  river." 

"  Adieu  to  thee,  fiiir  Rhine !    How  long,  delighted, 

The  stranger  fain  would  linger  on  her  way ! 

Thine  is  a  scene,  alike,  where  souls  united, 

Or  lonely  contemplation  thus  might  stray. 
***** 
"  Adieu  to  thee  again  !  a  vain  adieu  ! 

There  can  be  no  farewell  to  scenes  like  thine ; 

The  mind  is  colored  by  thy  every  hue  ; 
***** 
"More  mighty  spots  may  rise — more  glaring  shine ; 

But  none  unite  in  one  attaching  maze 

The  brilliant,  fair,  and  soft — the  glories  of  old  days." 

*  The  dates  are  purposely  omitted  in  this  description  of  my  journey 
up  the  Rhine,  in  order  to  preserve  the  continuity  of  the  narrative. 


CHAPTEE    XYIII. 

Along  the  ''  haunted  Yalley  of  the  Neckar  "  the  railway 
swiftly  bore  us  to  Heidelberg^  so  renowned  for  its  great 
castle  and  its  university,  founded  in  1386 ;  by  far  the  oldest 
in  Germany.  The  ruins  of  the  castle  are  immense.  The 
massive  walls  and  remains  of  the  hanging-gardens  yet  speak 
most  eloquently  of  its  former  grandeur.  In  spite  of  fire,  and 
cannon-balls,  and  the  blasting  lightning,  the  outline  of  its 
magnificence  yet  is  seen. 

We  had  not  time  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Olympia  Morata, 
who,  driven  from  her  native  Italy,  sought  refuge  at  Heidel- 
berg, where  her  learning  and  wonderful  talent  assembled 
crowds  to  hear  her  lecture.     She  died  and  was  buried  there. 

At  Carlsruhe,  a  handsome  town  on  a  plain,  we  entered 
the  Duchy  of  Baden.  A  long  avenue,  three  miles  in  length, 
called  the  "  Poplar  "VYalk,"  ran  parallel  with  the  railway, 
which  passed  through  an  extremely  fertile  vale.  There  were 
great  fields  of  tobacco,  of  maize,  of  hemp,  and  othei^  grains. 
Every  where  the  land  was  cultivated  by  women.  Poor  crea- 
tures! they  were  often  without  either  shoes  or  covering  for 
the  head ;  and  hard  usage  and  unceasing  toil  had  rendered 
them  perfectly  witch-like  in  appearance.  Throughout  France, 
Belgium,  and  Germany,  I  have  remarked  the  hard  lot  of  the 
female  peasants.     The  men  go  as  soldiers  in  the  legions  of 


14:2  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

foreign  lands,  or  serve  in  the  armies  at  home;  but  upon  the 
■women  falls  all  the  labor  of  cultivating  the  soil.  In  Belgium 
I  have  seen  a  woman  ploughing  the  field,  fastened  to  the  same 
plough  with  an  ox,  and  often  an  aged  female  reaping  the 
grain.  It  was  always  a  sad  spectacle  to  me,  and  I  thanked 
the  good  God  my  destiny  was  cast  in  a  land  where  woman 
was  cherished  as  the  "  better  portion  of  creation,"  loved  and 
cared  for  in  old  age  as  well  as  youth. 

On  our  right  were  the  mountains  of  the  Black  Forest, 
covered  with  yew-trees  to  their  summits.  On  the  loftiest 
were  watch-towers,  erected  in  the  time  of  the  Romans,  and 
afterwards  used  as  castles  for  the  robber  chieftains,  whence 
they  made  forays  upon  the  valleys,  laying  them  under  con- 
tribution, which  if  not  instantly  paid,  they  were  punished  by 
the  sword  and  fire.  These  towers  are  now  either  desolate  or 
used  as  hunting-lodges  of  the  German  noblemen. 

At  Carlsruhe  we  entered  the  most  splendid  car  I  have 
ever  seen.  It  was  like  a  small  parlor,  with  luxurious  sofas, 
and  ottomans,  large  mirrors,  and  paintings.  While  we  were 
waiting  the  moment  of  departure,  two  well-dressed  women 
came  in,  supporting  in  their  arms  an  old  woman,  apparently 
of  ninety.  She  was  attired  in  India  muslin  and  costly  lace, 
with  rich  jewels  and  white  satin  slippers.  She  was  a  perfect 
mummy ;  for  the  yellow  skin  clung  to  the  bones  of  her  face, 
and,  but  for  the  restless  wandering  of  her  eyes,  one  would 
have  declared  her  a  corpse.  Her  attendants  placed  her  upon 
a  sofa,  and  forthwith  she  began  talking  in  the  most  vivacious 
manner. 

At  twilight  we  reached  Baden-Baden^  and,  after  driving 
to  several  hotels,  found  lodgings  at  "  the  Victoria."  The 
town  was  overflowing  with  visitors,  and  that  night  there  was 
to  be  a  ball  at  the  Conv^rsationshaus.  We  therefore  made 
our  toilettes  quickly  after  dinner,   and   attended  it.     The 


A   GAJVIING-TABLE.  143 

dancing-saloon  is  really  magnificent.  The  lofty  ceiling  is 
supported  by  columns  of  wliite  and  gold ;  between  each  are 
enormous  mirrors,  and  great  vases  of  natural  flowers.  Along 
the  wall  were  raised  seats,  upon  which  were  seated  hundreds 
of  gaily-decked  women.  The  music  was  exquisite,  and  mul- 
titudes were  whirling  around  in  a  wild  kind  of  dance,  a  me- 
lange of  the  polka  and  mazurka. 

Above  the  music  and  the  voices,  and  the  rushing  sound 
of  the  dancers'  feet,  was  constantly  heard  a  sharp,  ringing, 
metallic  sound.  Upon  entering  a  grand  saloon  near  by,  we 
soon  discovered  the  origin  of  it.  From  the  gold  and  silver 
cast  down  by  the  eager  gamblers  it  proceeded.  At  a  large 
table  were  seated  two  or  three  statue-like  men,  with  features 
as  immovable  as  though  cast  in  bronze.  Before  them  were 
mountains  of  gold,  and  small  Alps  of  silver.  A  crowd  of 
persons,  some  seated  at  the  table,  and  others  leaning  over 
them,  were  occupied  in  betting.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  by 
any  one  save  the  dealer,  who  called  out,  ''^  Lejeu  est  foiii^^ 
(the  game  is  made.)  With  wondering  eyes  we  gazed  around 
upon  the  faces  of  the  throng,  and  felt  we  had  opened  a  new 
page  in  the  book  of  life — ^never  before  having  seen  a  gam- 
bling-table ;  and  never  did  I  behold  human  beings  so  entirely 
absorbed  as  these  were.  It  seemed  as  though  all  the  hopes 
of  existence  were  merged  in  the  turn  of  that  terrible  wheel. 
With  anxious  look  they  watched  it,  and,  when  the  "  silver 
rake  "  of  the  dealer  drew  in  the  gold,  how  the  light  appeared 
to  desert  those  eyes,  and  the  face  grow  haggard  and  pale. 
A  painful  feeling  swelled  at  my  heart,  and  yet  a  strange 
fascination  kept  me  there,  as  much  interested  in  the  fate  of 
the  gamblers  as  though  the  game  were  my  own. 

There  were  many  elegant-looking  women  and  lovely 
girls  betting  more  largely  than  even  the  men.  Just  in  front 
of  me,  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  supported  by  her  two  com- 


144  SODVENIKS   OF   TKAVEL. 

panions,  was  our  old  woman  of  the  railway^  casting  down  the 
gold  coin  in  perfect  showers.  From  a  person  near  me,  I 
found  she  was  a  Russian  Princess,  of  great  wealth,  who  had 
been  long  paralyzed,  but  who  adored  the  excitement  of  a 
gambler's  life.  She  had  come  to-night  purposely  to  bet,  and 
at  two  in  the  morning,  when  I  looked  in  at  the  table,  there 
she  still  was  seated,  still  pouring  out  the  gold.  Although 
her  face  was  like  the  face  of  the  dead,  her  eyes  were  glowing 
like  globes  of  flame. 

It  was  only  for  a  time  the  dancing  engaged  the  attention  ; 
soon  the  ball-room  was  deserted,  and  the  throng  all  gathered 
around  the  diU'erent  tables,  where  Bouge  et  Noir  and 
RouleUe  were  played.  Finding  myself  quite  near  the  table, 
by  an  impulse  I  could  not  control,  I  threw  down  some  money  ; 
but  happily  for  me  I  lost,  or  else  I  might  have  joyed  in  the 
game  as  much  as  the  fair  young  girl  over  whose  chair  I 
leaned.  She  had  been  there  for  long,  long  hours,  and  once 
she  had  won  eight  hundred  dollars,  but  a  turn  of  that  fatal 
wheel,  and  the  gold  was  all  gathered  to  the  dealer.  She  did 
not  seem  more  than  eighteen.  She  was  superbly  drest,  and 
her  delicate  fingers  were  glittering  with  diamonds. 

The  Conversationshaus  is  rented  to  regular  gamblers, 
who  pay  a  fabulous  price  for  it,  and  then  are  bound  to  ex- 
pend hundreds  of  thousands  of  florins  in  the  improvements  of 
the  walks  and  the  houses.  Their  immense  profits  can  well 
be  imagined,  when  with  all  this  expenditure  they  yet  make 
colossal  fortunes. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  left  the  dancing- 
room,  now  entirely  desolate.  •  The  gambling-rooms,  however, 
were  still  thronged  with  persons  all  eager  to  reach  the  tables, 
and  to  cast  down  their  gold.  As  we  passed  down  one  of  the 
avenues  of  tall  trees  we  met  a  youth,  whom  I  had  remarked 
in  the  early  portion  of  the  evening  betting  very  high,  and 


SPRINGS    AT   BADEN-BADEN.  145 

losing  constantly.  His  handsome  face  was  now  pale,  and  a 
wild  despair  gleamed  in  his  eyes  as  he  leant  in  the  abandon- 
ment of  anguish  against  a  tree.  Ah  !  well  could  I  imagine 
the  bitterness  of  his  soul;  its  history  was  written  upon  his 
haggard  brow.  He  was  very  young,  and  when  I  first  saw 
him  at  the  table  he  was  fresh  and  bright  as  a  newly-blown 
flower,  A  few  short  hours  of  fierce  passion  had  thus  changed 
him.  I  no  longer  wondered  at  the  frequent  suicides  which 
sadden  this  valley. 

Among  the  guests  we  met  several  acquaintances,  who  pre- 
sented us  to  their  friends,  and  thus  we  heard  wonderful  sto- 
ries of  the  losses  and  winnings  of  the  Conversationshaus. 
Often  the  bank  permits  itself  "  to  he  broken.^''  These  tidings 
go  abroad,  and  thousands  flock  in  to  try  their  luck,  where 
only  hundreds  came  before ;  thus  a  richer  harvest  is  reaped 
from  this  judicious  ruse. 

August  1th. — We  spent  some  days  at  Baden-Baden, 
becoming  each  hour  more  enraptured  with  its  picturesque 
beauty.  The  village  is  built  in  a  small  valley,  encircled  by 
the  mountains  of  the  Black  Forest.  A  little  stream  flows 
through  it,  called  the  Oos.  The  Komans  colonized  these 
springs,  and  their  Emperors  often  sought  the  "  healing  balm  " 
of  the  waters.  There  are  multitudes  of  elegant  hotels  and 
well-furnished  lodging-houses.  The  Conversationshaus  is  a 
splendid  building,  with  a  row  of  Corinthian  columns  in  front, 
and  a  garden  of  rare  flowers.  The  Trinkhalle  is  near  it ; 
also  a  fine  edifice,  with  a  fountain  in  the  centre,  whence 
flows  the  smoking  water.  It  has  the  taste  of  warm  salt  and 
water.  The  springs  are  very  numerous,  and  all  bufst  out 
just  below  the  Castle  terrace ;  thence  they  are  conveyed  to 
the  difi"erent  bath-houses.  Their  source  is  named  "  hell,"  as 
no  snow  ever  remains  there,  even  during  the  coldest  winter. 
Vol.  L-i7 


140  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

The  Trinkhalle  has  a  long  gallery  with  fresco  paintings  of 
the  legends  of  the  Black  Forest, 

The  mountains  are  terraced  on  each  side  of  the  valley, 
and  the  most  delightful  walks  cut  through  the  trees  leading 
to  their  summits.  Here  and  there  are  charming  bowers, 
covered  with  rose-vines  and  honeysuckles.  We  spent  a  long 
Sunday  morning  wandering  amid  these  green  labyrinths,  and 
climbing  up  to  the  old  Castle,  where  are  still  to  be  seen  the 
terrible  dungeons  of  the  "ancient  days,"  whose  doors  were 
great  rocks,  turning  on  pivots,  and  whose  "  rack-chamber  '' 
still  contains  frightful  instruments  of  torture.  There  w;is, 
too,  the  room  of  the  "  secret  tribunal,"  where  meetings  w^ere 
held  of  dark  import  to  many  a  household.  Above  this  Castle 
is  another,  the  Alte  Schloss,  the  first  fortress  of  the  Dukes  of 
Baden.  An  avenue  of  oaks  leads  to  the  convent  of  Lichten- 
thal,  where  there  are  curious  monuments  of  the  Margraves, 
consisting  of  effigies  in  armor. 

About  three  we  returned  to  the  village,  and  passing  the 
ConversationshauSy  looked  in  for  a  few  moments.  The  gam- 
bliufr-rooms  were  filled,  and  the  betting  progressing  with  un- 
diminished vigor. 

In  the  afternoon  the  little  valley  presented  the  appear- 
ance of  a  grand  dress-ball  in  the  open  air.  All  the  people 
of  the  high  nobility,  which  consisted  of  Russian  princes  and 
princesses,  German  barons  and  baronesses,  Sardinian  and 
Austrian  counts  and  countesses,  French  marqilises  and  mar- 
chionesses, English  lords  and  ladies,  en  grande  toilette, 
were  promenading  beneath  the  trees  or  in  the  superb  saloons 
of  the-  gambling-house ;  then  multitudes  of  the  peasants  in 
their  national  costumes,  and  Bohemian  gypsies,  Swiss  and 
Tyrolean  women.  All  languages  appeared  to  be  spoken 
— all  nations  seemed  met  together  for  merriment  and  pleas- 
ure.    There  was  no  stifi"  formality ;    ?»11  tvere  cordial   and 


THE    MUMMY    GAMESTER.  147 

talkative.  When  the  night  came  the  Conversationstiaus  was 
brightly  illuminated,  and  two  splendid  bands  of  music  sta- 
tioned in  the  galleries  of  the  dancing-room,  played  alternately 
the  most  exquisite  portions  of  opera  music.  There  were  eight 
thousand  visitors  at  Baden-Baden,  and  save  the  confirmed 
invalids,  all  were  out  that  night  I  should  certainly  think  ;  for 
the  throng  was  wonderful,  and  the  "  hazard  tables  "  lined 
twenty  deep  at  least.  This  great  crowd  were  all  silent,  with 
longing  eyes,  watching  their  opportunity  to  press  forward  to 
the  table,  where  the  gold  was  still  piled  up  in  mimic  moun- 
tains. 

Perceiving  that  I  was  eagerly  looking  forward,  several  per- 
sons made  way  for  me  to  reach  the  much-desired  point.  I 
stood  behind  the  chair  of  a  lovely  G-erman  baroness,  to  whom 
I  had  been  presented,  and  saw  her  win  and  lose  large  sums. 
She  endured  both  with  perfect  composure,  and  occasionally 
turned  round  and  gave  me  some  very  piquant  descriptions  of 
persons  near  by,  and  related  startling  incidents  of  the  life  of 
Baden-Baden.  Our  mummy  of  the  railway  was  there  a^ain 
in  her  rich  attire.  Her  long  skeleton-like  fingers  were  grasp- 
ing the  gold  (for  she  luas  in  luck ),  and  forming  it  into 
a  small  pyramid  in  front  of  her. 

It  was  a  painful  occupation  to  watch  the  faces  around. 
Many  were  so  perfectly  absorbed,  they  did  not  seem  conscious 
of  the  presence  of  any  human  being  but  that  of  the  dealer  of 
the  cards,  upon  whom  they  riveted  their  gaze.  Still  the 
wheel  rolled  round — the  cards  fell,  and  the  sharp  ring  of  the 
gold  resounded  through  the  rooms,  but  no  laughter,  no  mirth ; 
the  only  words  uttered  were  the  announcement  of  the  result 
of  the  game — '-''red  wins  ^^  or  ^^  black  losesy  When  the 
baroness  had  lost  all  her  money,  she  proposed  we  should  leave 
and  seek  the  gay  throng  in  the  saloons,  or  wander  out  upon 
the  greensward.     She  did  not  appear  in  the  slightest  degree 


1-18  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

annoyed  at  licr  losses,  but  said  she  made  it  a  rule  never  to 
exceed  the  amount  she  determined  to  lose  in  the  beginning 
of  the  sitting. 

Gambling  is  a  pet  passion  with  the  Germans  ;  it  is  to  them 
an  actual  enjoyment.  The  agony  of  suspense — the  near 
approach  of  ruin — the  rapture  of  possession,  are  phases  of 
existence  wild  and  ecstatic.  They  stir  the  dull  current  of 
life — they  swell  it  into  fierce  waves,  which  bear  away  on  their 
tumultuous  waters  the  stern  realities  of  the  present;  the 
future  and  the  past  are  merged  in  the  dark  tide.  It  is  a 
Lethe  to  the  soul. 

In  the  environs  of  Baden-Baden  are  charming  drives  and 
many  interesting  relics  of  the  Romans.  From  the  Castle  of 
Neu  JSbersiein,  once  an  old  feudal  ruin,  but  the  residence 
now,  at  times,  of  the  Duke  of  Baden,  there  is  a  splendid 
view  of  the  valley  of  the  Vosges  Mountains.  Baden-Baden 
has  many  attractions,  not  only  from  its  society,  but  from  its 
beautiful  position,  so  calm  and  quiet  amid  its  encircling  hills, 
all  crowned  with  dark  fir  trees.  It  would  have  been  a  sweet 
joy  to  me  could  I  have  spent  weeks  there ;  but  in  the  future 
loomed  up  the  great  fetes  of  Paris  of  the  fifteenth  of  August, 
and  thus  we  hastened  away  to  be  in  the  "  imperial  city  "  to 
witness  them. 

August  Sth. — A  delightful  ride  on  the  railway  brought 
us  in  a  few  hours  to  Kehl,  where  we  took  an  omnibus  and 
drove  over  the  Bridge  of  Boats  to  Strasbourg,  a  strongly 
fortified  city  on  the  confines  of  Germany.  It  is  garrisoned 
by  many  thousands  of  French  soldiers,  and  is  renowned  for 
the  wonderful  spire  of  its  cathedral,  which  rises  four  hundred 
and  seventy- four  feet  from  the  ground.  It  is  much  higher  than 
St.  Paul's  in  London,  or  than  the  loftiest  of  the  pyramids. 
It  is  of  stone,  so  admirably  cut  it  has  the  appearance  of  a  deli- 
cate net-work  when  viewed  from  the  street  below.     The  de- 


THE   ASTRONOMICAL    CLOCK.  140 

sign  of  this  tower  was  by  Erwin  de  Steinhach,  altliougli   it 
was  finished  in  1318  by  his  brother. 

We  drove  through  the  narrow  streets  with  their  singular 
houses,  (having  dormer  windows  one  above  the  other  for 
many  stories,)  to  the  Maison  Rouge.  As  it  was  near  twelve 
o'clock,  we  went  immediately  to  the  cathedral  to  see  the  fa 
mous  astronomical  clock,  and  to  hear  it  strike  the  hour. 
We  entered  a  chapel  where  it  stands ;  it  is  very  large,  and 
looks  like  a  richly-ornamented  shrine.  There  were  two 
cherubs  ;  above  them  the  figure  of  Death,  and  below,  an  im- 
age of  Christ.  At  twelve.  Death  struck  the  hour  upon  the 
bull.  At  that  instant,  the  twelve  apostles  passed  in  front  of 
the  Saviour,  whose  hand  was  extended  to  bless  them.  As 
Judas  went  by,  however,  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 
When  they  had  all  vanished,  the  figure  held  forth  its  hand  as 
though  blessing  the  people. 

The  cathedral  is  of  vast  size,  but  not  magnificent  within 
its  walls.  The  exterior  is  covered  with  carving,  and  the 
sculptured  forms  of  the  angels  and  saints  are  exceedingly 
fine.  The  spire,  however,  is  the  great  attraction  of  the  city. 
It  is  said  to  be  the  highest  in  the  world.  Near  the  cathe- 
dral was  the  house  of  Erwin  de  Steinhach^  in  which  we  saw 
many  curious  models. 

Next,  we  visited  the  church  of  St.  Thomas,  to  look  at  the 
monument  of  Mareschal  Saxe.  It  is  very  large,  of  white  and 
black  marble.  In  one  of  the  chapels  we  were  shown  a  glass 
case,  in  which  were  the  bodies  of  one  of  the  counts  of  Nassau, 
and  of  his  daughter.  They  have  been  thus  preserved  more 
than  three  hundred  years,  and  still  have  the  look  of  life. 

After  dinner,  we  took  the  railway  to  Basle,  or  Basel,  in 
Switzerland,  passing  many  flourishing  villages,  and  through 
a  richly  luxuriant  country;  the  valleys  all  laid  off  into 
strips  of  ground,  each  belonging  to  different  persons,  and  the 


150  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

hills  coverea  to  their  summits  with  vineyards.  At  night  we 
reached  Basle,  on  the  Rhine,  at  the  head  of  navigation,  and 
drove  to  the  Three  Kings,  on  the  bank  of  the  rushing  river. 
Our  chamber  was  in  front,  and  we  sank  into  sleep  with  the 
music  of  the  dashing  waters  resounding  ever  in  our  ears. 

August  Qth.  At  dawn  we  were  up  and  away  for  the 
summit  of  a  distant  mountain,  over  which  hung  a  gauzy  veil 
of  mist.  We  drove  through  a  very  picturesque  country. 
The  peasants  were  reaping  the  grain.  The  women  wore  im- 
mense straw  hats,  and  large  white  sleeves.  We  stopped  at  a 
Swiss  cottage,  which,  although  very  poetic  without,  was  not 
inviting  within.  When  the  road  became  too  steep  for  the 
carriage,  we  abandoned  it,  and  walked  several  miles  through 
cornfields,  and  beds  of  the  Anisette  plant.  The  toil  of  ascend- 
ing the  mountain  under  an  iVugust  sky  was  rather  fatiguing, 
but  we  were  amply  compensated  *  upon  reaching  the  little 
church  on  the  topmost  peak  of  Mount  ChriscJiona,  whence 
an  enchanting  view  met  our  eyes,  of  the  great  valley,  with 
Basle  in  the  centre,  and  the  dark  blue  Ilhine,  the  Vosges 
Mountains,  and  the  Jura  chain ;  beyond  them,  the  snowy 
Alps,  the  Bernese,  and  the  Jungfrau.  Quite  near  us  were 
the  Black  Forest  Mountains,  their  slopes  filled  with  villages, 
fields  of  grain,  and  vineyards.  As  this  Mount  Chrischona 
is  on  the  Swiss  border,  we  looked  into  France,  Switzerland, 
and  Germany. 

There  is  a  legend  attached  to  the  church  of  Mount  Chris- 
chona, which  tells  of  its  being  founded  b}^  a  beautiful  woman, 
whom  the  perfidy  of  man  had  driven  to  despair.  She  fled 
the  world,  and  upon  the  lofty  summit  of  this  mountain  made 
her  dwelling-place,  and  with  her  wealth  built  this  church. 
Her  virtues  and  good  deeds  caused  her  to  be  adored  almost 
as  a  saint. 

The  building  is  very  ancient,  and  is  inhabited  by  an  old 


THE    BA'ITLE -FIELD    OF    ST.    JACOB.  151 

priest,  whom  we  found  intelligent  and  communicative.  I 
accompanied  him  to  the  tower  of  the  church,  up  which  we 
climbed  upon  a  slender  ladder.  In  it  he  had  a  fine  collec- 
tion of  books,  and  there  taught  a  school  for  the  instruction 
of  young.men,  who  were  to  go  as  missionaries  to  Abyssinia. 
We  were  exceedinoly  interested  in  the  aged  man,  and  touched 
by  his  enthusiastic  piety.  His  life  was  one  of  self-sacrifice, 
for  not  the  slightest  appearance  of  comfort  existed  in  his 
miserable  home;  and  yet  I  have  never  seen  more  perfect 
content  and  happiness  expressed  in  a  human  face,  or  heard 
words  more  full  of  gratitude  to  God. 

We  passed  several  hours  upon  the  Mount  Chrischona, 
gazing  upon  the  beautiful  scenery,  and  then  descended  the 
steep  mountain-path  to  our  carriage.  In  returning  we  made 
a  detour^  which  brought  us  to  the  Swiss  Thermopylce,  the 
Battle-Field  of  St.  Jacob,  where  sixteen  hundred  Swiss  at- 
tacked just  as  many  thousand  French  soldiers,  under  the 
command  of  the  Dauphin  (who  was  afterwards  Louis  Elev- 
enth). Only  ten  Swiss  survived  the  combat  of  ten  hours, 
and  they  were  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  their  countrymen. 
Louis,  deeply  touched  by  the  wondrous  courage  of  the  bold 
mountaineers,  made  peace  with  them,  and  selected  a  body- 
guard of  Swiss  soldiers.  Hence  has  arisen  the  custom  of 
many  of  the  monarchs  of  Europe.  They  make  choice  of 
them  as  the  most  true  and  faithful  people  upon  earth.  They 
trust  their  lives  with  them  when  they  fear  their  own  subjects. 
I  suppose,  from  this  unfaltering  truth  comes  the  proverb, 
"  As  faithful  as  a  Swiss." 

Basle  is  a  walled  town,  divided  into  two  portions  by  the 
Rhine,  which  is  crossed  by  a  splendid  bridge.  It  has  an  air 
of  great  bustle  and  commerce.  German  is  much  spoken. 
We  met  a  person,  who  inquired  if  we  knew  Seatsfield,  who 
wrote  the  "  Western  Scenes  of  America,''''    descriptive   of 


152  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

pioneer  life.  He  told  us  he  now  lived  at  the  Falls  of  the 
llhine,  upon  the  fortune  he  made  from  those  books.  They 
were  written  in  German,  and  translated  into  English,  and  I 
well  remember  years  ago  the  pleasure  I  derived  from  read- 
ing them,  and  the  oft-repeated  question  in  the  public  jour- 
nals, "  Who  is  Seatsfield  ?"  This  friend  of  his  told  us  he 
was  a  bold,  wild  young  German,  eager  for  adventure,  who 
passed  years  on  the  borders  of  civilized  life,  among  the  In- 
dians and  the  pioneers.  When  he  wearied  of  the  excite- 
ment he  returned  to  Germany,  and  wrote  out  his  experiences 
in  the  New  World.  They  had  the  fresh  ring  of  new  and 
novel  existence,  and  their  success  was  wonderful.  Translated 
into  English  and  republished  in  America,  they  made  a  "  de- 
cided sensation." 

We  left  Basle  at  four  o'clock,  and  passed  along  another 
railway  to  Strasbourg.  The  route  lay  between  two  chains 
of  mountains,  and  was  very  lovely.  There  were  thousands 
and  thousands  of  vineyards  almost  to  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tains. At  nine  we  were  at  the  "  Maison  Rouge,"  where  we 
tarried  all  night  and  until  twelve  the  next  day,  when  we  start- 
ed for  Paris  in  ''Train  de  Vitesse"  (the  express).  The  rail- 
way is  excellent,  so  smoothly  gliding,  we  felt  no  fatigue  though 
the  distance  was  three  hundred  and  twelve  miles,  in  ten  hour,-. 
The  country  was  highly  picturesque,  mountains  succeeding 
mountains,  covered  to  their  topmost  peaks  by  the  luxuriant 
vines.  Then  we  passed  also  many  handsome  cities  and  vil- 
lages. We  dined  at  Nancy,  and  stepped  at  Epernay,  where 
the  best  Champagne  is  made ;  there  are  multitudes  of  long 
tunnels  piercing  the  mountain's  side  and  passing  through 
dark  caverns,  hollowed  out  by  art. 

At  ten  o'clock  we  were  at  Paris.  Then  came  the  delay 
of  visiting  the  baggage  and  examining  the  passports.  Soon 
all  was  ended,  and  away  througli  the  radiant  Boulevards  to 


HOME   LETTERS.  153 

Hotel  Meurice.  '*  No  rooms,"  was  the  reply ;  so  we  were 
compelled  to  mount  to  the  sixth  story  of  the  Hotel  Windsor, 
near  by.  I  fancied  I  was  most  terribly  fatigued  by  this  as- 
cent until  a  package  of  letters  was  brought  in.  Oh  !  what  a 
glow  of  joy  ran  like  an  electric  thrill  through  all  my  frame, 
giving  warmth  and  life  to  the  weary  limbs,  and  banishing  all 
thought  of  sleep — all  desire  for  repose.  With  hands  trem- 
bling with  eagerness,  the  seals  were  torn  asunder,  and  no 
word  spoken  till  the  assurance  met  the  eyes  that  ihey,  our 
loved  ones  at  home,  were  well.  Ah  !  then  how  fervently 
from  the  deep  heart  came  up  the  grateful  "  Thank  God  !" 
It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  delight  of  thus  receiving  tid- 
ings, after  a  long  absence  and  long  delay.  Our  letters  had 
not  followed  us  in  our  wanderings,  but  had  been  kept  here 
waiting  our  return.  Ere  we  had  finished  reading  them  it  was 
almost  morning.  So  we  threw  ourselves  upon  our  beds,  and 
sought  the  sweet  repose  we  so  much  needed. 
Vol,  I.— 7* 


CHAPTEK    XIX. 

Again  we  are  in  Paris — ^joy-inspiring  Paris;  more  gay, 
more  sparkling  than  ever.  Tlie  city  is  thronged,  for  the  fete 
day  of  Napoleon  is  near  at  hand,  and  thousands  are  already 
here  to  witness  the  wonders  of  the  illumination. 

The  days  since  our  return  have  been  delightfully  occu- 
pied, and  the  evenings  spent  at  theatres,  operas,  or  dinner 
parties.  Then  we  have  driven  several  times  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne  with  our  handsome,  dashing  young  countryman,  de 
Yampert,  who  has  an  elegant  equipage,  with  splendid  horses. 
He  is  most  cordially  kind  to  his  compatriots,  and  yesterday 
we  all  assisted  (as  the  French  say)  at  a  magnificent  dinner 
given  by  him  to  a  circle  of  Americans  at  the  Cafe  de  Paris. 
The  appointments  of  the  table  were  in  perfect  taste — the 
decorations  of  superb  bouquets,  most  exquisite.  Of  the 
dinner,  I  need  only  say,  it  was  worthy  of  the  French  cuisine. 
Around  the  festive  board  we  all  grew  patriotic,  and  many 
glowing  toasts  to  "  those  we  love  "  in  our  far-away  home, 
and  to  America,  were  drank  in  "  brimming  bumpers." 
Among  the  guests  was  a  young  Italian,  who,  after  we  retired 
to  the  drawing-room,  quite  enchanted  us  with  the  delicious 
music  of  his  native  land,  which  he  sang  with  a  voice  of  rich 
melody.     There  was  a  shade  of  sadness  in  his  manner  which 


GRAND   REVIEW ^THE   EMPRESS.  155 

won  our  sympathy ;  immensely  increased  when  we  learned 
from  our  gallant  Southron  friend  that  Love  had  made  the 
lustrous-eyed  singer  a  wanderer  from  his  home  and  kindred. 
Two  Days  in  Paris. — For  weeks  Paris  has  seemed  to 
have  but  one  heart,  beating  in  joyous  anticipation  of  the 
coming  fetes.     August  the  15th  was  the  Fete  Day  of  Napo- 
leon the  Great,  and  also  that  of  the  present  Emperor.     To 
give  greater  eclat  to  the  spectacle,  it  was  determined  there 
should  be  a  grand  review  on  the  14th,  and  thus  usher  in  the 
"  Day  of  the  Illuminations."     On  Sunday  morning  (August 
14th),  we  accompanied  our  charming  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Pierpout,   of  New  York,  to    a  delightful  parlor    they  had 
rented  on  the  Champs  Elysees,  whence  we  commanded  an  ad- 
mirable view  of  the  grand  avenue.     Although  the  hour  was 
very  early,  the  streets  were  thronged,  and  presented  from 
our  windows  the  appearance  of  a  vast  ocean  of  human  heads. 
By  eleven,  the  cavalry,  under  the  command  of  General  Korte, 
formed  a  double  line  on  either  side  of  the  Champs  Elysees^ 
beginning  at  the  "  Arch  of  Triumph,"  and  extending  to  the 
*'  Gardens  of  the  Tuileries."     The  soldiers  were  splendidly 
mounted   and   equipped ;    their  uniforms  were   of  gorgeous 
colors,  and  their  drawn  swords  flashed  brightly  in  the  morn- 
ing sunlight.     At  one,  the  Empress  drove  down  the  avenue  ; 
a  guard  of  honor  preceded  her,  while   Marshal   St.  Arnaud 
rode  by  the  side  of  the  open  caleche,  in  which  she  was  seated 
with  the  Princess  Matilde  and  the  Duchess  d'Albe.     The  Em- 
press is  a  beautiful,  fair,  delicate  woman,  with  an  expression 
of  exquisite  sweetness  and  genial  kindness.     She  was  attired 
in  a  dress  of  India  muslin  covered  with  fleecy  clouds  of 
Brussels  lace,  and  a  bonnet  of  white  adorned  with  roses  and 
buds.     She  bowed  most  graciously  as  she  passed  along,  and 
there  was  such  a  grace  in  her  manner,  I  am  sure  there  were 
but  few  who  did  not  heartily  exclaim,  ''  Vive  I'lmperatrice  !" 


15()  SOUVENIKS    OF    TKAVKL. 

When  this  attractive  corUge  had  vanished,  the  drums 
and  trumpets  of  the  royal  band  announced  the  approach  of 
the  Emperor.  He  rode  in  advance  of  his  cuirassiers^  and 
was  accompanied  by  a  magnificent  suite  of  generals  and 
gallant-looking  ofl&cers.  After  him  came  Prince  Napoleon, 
Marshal  Magnau,  and  the  Minister  of  the  Interior.  The 
Emperor  Napoleon  is  a  perfectly  graceful  rider.  He  is  not 
a  handsome  man,  but  there  is  a  dashing  character,  a  style,  a 
self-possession  in  his  appearance,  which  deeply  impresses  all 
beholders.  He  is  of  fair  complexion,  and  has  light  brown 
hair  and  moustache.  The  soldiers  all  cried  out,  "  Vive  I'Em- 
pereur  ! "  We  were  however  amazed  that  there  was  no 
spontaneous  burst  of  welcome  and  love  from  the  people  to 
greet  the  coming  of  one  of  Europe's  greatest  statesmen  and 
wisest  monarchs.  In  front  of  the  palace,  all  the  regiments 
passed  in  review  before  him. 

We  lingered  in  the  parlor  on  the  Champs  Elysees  until 
five  o'clock,  and  during  all  that  time  there  was  a  constant 
stream  of  soldiers  in  "  serried  ranks,"  marching  by.  First, 
all  the  infantry  passed  down  ;  in  the  band  of  each  regiment 
a  hollow-toned  drum  played  a  conspicuous  part.  It  was  a 
splendid  spectacle  as  squadron  after  squadron  of  the  cavalry 
wheeled  into  line,  and  dashed  down  the  avenue.  "  How 
irresistible  they  would  prove  upon  the  battle-field,"  we  could 
not  avoid  exclaiming,  as  we  watched  their  gallant  bearing. 
There  were  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  soldiers  under 
arms  that  day. 

The  crowd  followed  the  retiring  soldiers,  and  we  then 
walked  down  through  the  "  Place  de  la  Concorde  "  into  the 
Gardens  of  the  Tuileries,  which  were  filled  with  happy, 
merry  people.  Multitudes  of  the  peasants  and  the  country 
gentry  had  come  up  from  the  provinces  to  see  the  fete ;  it 
was  said  one  hundred  thousand  persons  had  arrived  on  Sun- 


THE   FETE   OF   NAPOLEON.  157 

day  morning.  It  was  really  a  delight  to  hear  their  frank, 
good-humored  expressions  of  pleasure  at  all  they  beheld. 
Restaurants,  theatres,  and  public  gardens  were  thronged  to 
excess  when  night  came  on.  About  eleven  o'clock  we  went 
out  from  a  dinner-party  to  look  at  the  preparations  for  the 
morrow's  festivity.  Arches,  and  skeleton-like  eagles,  to  be 
filled  up  with  lamps,  arose  in  all  directions ;  thousands  of 
workmen  were  yet  toiling  to  complete  them. 

From  this  busy  scene  we  drove  to  the  centre  of  one  of 
the  bridges  acros§  the  Seine,  and  there  tarried  awhile.  The 
sound  of  the  great  city  came  to  us  like  the  roar  of  a  cataract. 
Long  lines  of  light  marked  all  the  streets  diverging  from  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde.  The  small  river,  within  its  high 
granite  embankments,  flowed  silently  away. 

At  six  on  Monday  morning  the  "  Fete  of  Napoleon  "  com- 
menced, by  a  salvo  of  one  hundred  and  one  guns  from  the  Hotel 
des  Invalides.  All  the  theatres,  operas,  circuses,  and  gardens, 
were  thrown  open  to  the  people ;  the  government  paying  a 
certain  sum  to  the  managers.  The  lowliest  and  the  poorest 
were  thus  enabled  to  enjoy  the  admirable  acting  of  Rachel, 
and  to  listen  to  the  most  famous  Prima  Donnas.  "  All  the 
world  "  were  out,  and  all  on  "  pleasure  bent." 

During  the  morning  we  wandered  through  the  Gardens 
of  the  Tuileries,  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  and  the  Champs 
Elysees ;  every  where  we  saw  little  shops  (where  all  imagin- 
able articles  were  sold),  then  theatres,  French  swings,  and 
miniature  circuses,  with  horses  of  wood,  upon  which  were 
mounted  old  men,  young  women,  middle-aged  mothers,  and 
small  children.  They  all  appeared  as  happy  as  tliough 
seated  upon  the  fleetest  of  Franconi's  steeds.  Upon  a  given 
signal,  around  and  around  swung  the  wooden  horses,  while 
the  riders  gravely  held  on,  exulting  in  their  rapid  speed,  and 
gazing  down  triumphantly  upon  the  waiting  crowd.     Beneath 


158  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

the  trees,  on  impromptu  stages,  were  necromancers,  jugglers, 
rope-dancers,  tumbling-men,  women,  and  children,  dressed 
as  satyrs,  gods,  and  goddesses,  as  fairies  and  grim  warriors. 
Al  fresco  theatres  displayed  comic  actors  and  actresses, 
or  female  singers  in  scanty  costume  pouring  forth  in  song 
their  joys  or  their  woes ;  groups  were  seated  around  them 
sipping  eau  sucree^  or  drinking  claret.  All  was  gay  and 
joyous  life,  and  Napoleon  on  his  throne  was  not  more  con- 
tent than  the  humblest  of  his  subjects.  All  the  streets  and 
avenues  leading  to  the  Champs  Elysees  weje  thronged,  and 
we  imagined  all  Paris  were  there,  until  we  drove  to  the 
''  Champs  de  Mars,"  where  we  found  countless  hosts  pi 
people,  eagerly  gazing  upon  the  evolutions  of  soldiers.  After 
the  ascension  of  a  balloon,  the  artists  of  the  Hippodrome  gave 
the  "  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,"  and  the  storming  of  a 
fortress  in  Algiers.  At  two  o'clock,  all  the  foreign  ambas- 
sadors, ministers,  senators,  and  members  of  the  diplomatic 
corps,  called  upon  the  Emperor  at  the  Tuileries;  their 
dresses  and  equipages  were  superb. 

Just  at  twilight  we  passed  again  into  the  Gardens  of  the 
Tuileries  ;  the  lamps  were  already  lighted.  Along  the 
facade  of  the  Palace,  extended  a  cordon  of  golden  hue, 
while  in  the  parterre  in  front  were  giant  bouquets  of  tulips 
of  light,  and  garlands  and  festoons,  hanging  from  tree  to  tree. 
Around  the  basin  of  the  great  fountain  were  baskets  of 
flowers  of  gorgeous  colors,  formed  all  of  fire.  The  jets  of 
the  fountains  seemed  like  snow-flakes  falling  amid  the  lights. 
From  the  centre  of  the  Gardens  to  the  arch  at  the  entrance 
to  Place  de  la  Concorde,  there  was  a  perfect  blaze  of  rain- 
bow-hued  flame.  It  seemed  as  though  the  Genii  of  the 
Earth  had  yielded  up  all  their  treasures  of  diamonds,  of 
emeralds,  topazes,  rubies,  and    amethysts,  for  this  glorious 


THE   ILLUMINATIONS.  159 

spectacle.  The  picturesque  beauty  presented  by  the  corabina- 
tiou  of  colors,  was  indescribable. 

Around  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  and  along  the  Champs 
Elysees,  to  the  Arch  of  Triumph,  were  lofty  frames  of  wood, 
imitating  the  arcades  and  colonnades  of  a  Moorish  palace ; 
these  were  entirely  covered  with  myriads  of  lamps  of  all 
coloi;s,  forming  the  base,  shaft,  and  capital  of  every  pilaster. 
It  seemed  as  though  a  net-work  of  light  were  thrown  over 
them. 

At  the  termination  of  the  Gardens  of  the  Tuileries,  stood 
an  immense  arch,  from  the  centre  of  which  hung  an  impe- 
rial crown;  this  arch  was  the  chef  cf  ceuvre  of  the  night.  It 
was  magnificent,  glittering  with  myriads  of  colored  lamps, 
and  realizing  almost  the  description  in  Revelations  of  the 
"blazing  gate  of  heaven."  The  throng  were  compelled  to 
pass  beneath  the  gorgeous  archway ;  we  quietly  fell  into 
the  current,  and  were  thus  borne  along  to  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  now  glowing  like  some  palace  of  enchantment 
roofed  over  by  the  deep  blue  skies  ;  then  on  to  the  Champs 
Elysees.  From  arch  to  arch,  across  the  avenue,  were  hung 
enormous  chandeliers,  lighting  it  up  as  though  it  were  a  grand 
ball-room. 

The  Bond  Pont  was  covered  with  blue  lights,  to  repre- 
sent the  firmament,  while  an  eao-le  of  white  liorht  seemed 
hovering  over  it.  So  dazzling  was  the  sight,  we  could  only 
look  upon  it  for  a  few  seconds  at  a  time. 

There  were  one  million  of  people  in  the  streets,  and  yet 
we  experienced  no  inconvenience  from  the  crowd ;  there  was 
an  eff'ort,  it  seemed,  on  the  part  of  every  one  to  avoid  rude- 
ness to  his  neighbor.  Good  humor  and  merriment  were 
blended  in  all  the  exclamations  of  delight  and  rapture  at 
the  spectacle. 

Upon  inquiring  of  a  little  Gamin  de  Paris  (who  was 


160  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

busily  lighting  up  a  festoon  of  lamps),  how  they  were  ar- 
ranged, he  sprang  down  and  explained  the  manner  in  which 
the  small  glass  cups,  filled  with  some  inflammable  substance, 
were  fastened  in  meshes  of  dark-colored  wire,  thus  seeming 
to  hang  in  the  air ;  we  thanked  him  for  the  information,  and 
he  drew  himself  up  with  great  importance,  and  said,  "  I  am 
glad  you  are  all  so  much  pleased  ;  this  portion  of  the  illuniina- 
tion  was  delegated  to  us." 

From  the  Bond  Pont  we  proceeded  to  the  banks  of  the 
Seine,  vis-a-vis  to  the  Hotel  des  Invalides  ;  there  we  hired 
some  chairs,  and  seated  ourselves  to  wait  the  signal  for  the 
commencement  of  the  "  fireworks."  In  a  few  moments  a 
blue-light  shot  up,  and  a  flight  of  rockets  quickly  followed 
it ;  these  burst  into  a  shower  of  stars.  Then  came  the  Ro- 
man candles,  and  flowers  of  every  variety  and  hue ;  some 
were  in  the  form  of  bouquets,  and  others  of  one  flower  alone. 
When  they  vanished,  suddenly  the  air  appeared  filled  with 
fiery  serpents.  Next  came  an  allegorical  mosaic,  represent- 
ing the  "  Temple  of  Immortality  ;  "  fountains  of  fire  darted 
forth  from  the  porticoes,  while  the  centre  revealed  the  Apo- 
theosis of  Napoleon  the  Great^  in  the  imperial  costume.  He 
sUjod  upon  a  globe  partially  covered  by  the  wings  of  an 
eagle,  holding  in  its  claw  a  scroll,  on  which  were  the  words, 
"  Ibth  of  August.''''  Many  told  us  this  was  the  greatest  tri- 
umph of  pyrotechnic  skill  ever  exhibited  ;  it  was  the  work  of 
Ruggieri.  Balloons  then  ascended,  showering  down  stars  and 
flowers  of  light ;  the  last  bouquet  filled  the  whole  atmosphere 
with  radiance.  Then  darkness  returned,  and  instantly  the 
dome  of  the  Invalides  was  one  blaze  of  crimson  fire ;  the 
efiect  appeared  electrical,  for  the  great  multitude  of  human 
beings  burst  forth  into  loud  shouts  of  admiration. 

We  tarried  on  the  banks  of  the  river  until  all  was  quiet, 
and  it  was  dark  again ;  then  we  retraced  our  steps,  passing 


FONTAINEBLl^LU.  161 

again  through  the  Palace  Gardens.  The  Emperor  and  Em- 
press were  standing  upon  the  balcony  gazing  on  the  still 
glowing  illumination.  The  crowd  had  departed,  and  the 
falling  waters  of  the  fountains  were  sweetly  musical,  in  the 
stillness  of  the  midnight.  We  walked  around  the  parterres, 
and  lingered  near  each  statue  ;  it  was  truly  difficult  to  leave 
these  scenes  of  enchantment.  When  we  looked  our  last  upon 
them,  they  were  yet  dazzling  and  bright,  and  now  upon  my 
memory  is  daguerreotyped  the  gorgeous  spectacle  of  that 
brilliant  night  of  August  the  fifteenth. 

Fontainehleau. — In  the  ancient  town  of  Fontainebleau, 
and  in  the  palace  of  the  kings  of  France,  we  spent  two 
charming  days.  Our  sojourn  there  was  delightful,  and  the 
memory  of  the  sweet  hours  we  passed  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  wandering  amid  the  rocks  of  Franchard  or  within  the 
stately  halls  of  the  palace,  can  never  leave  my  heart. 

As  we  were  exceedingly  occupied  all  day  in  Paris,  we 
could  only  leave  for  Fontainebleau  by  the  night  train.  It 
was  glorious  moonlight,  and  the  sky  of  cloudless  blue.  Our 
journey  of  forty  miles  was  accomplished  in  two  hours;  then 
a  carriage  quickly  conveyed  us  along  an  avenue  of  trees,  to 
the  neat  and  quaint  old  hotel  of  "  the  Black  Eagle,"  where 
the  bright-eyed  hostess  received  us  with  much  delight,  as 
we  came  recommended  by  her  father,  Monsieur  Paul.  Al- 
though we  had  passed  through  many  narrow  streets,  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  realize  that  we  were  in  a  city,  such  per- 
fect silence  prevailed.  Our  apartments  opened  upon  a 
splendid  garden,  and  myriads  of  flowers  were  giving  out 
their  fragrant  breath  to  the  moonlit  night.  Long  we 
lingered  at  the  windows :  the  calm  beauty  of  the  scene  was  a 
gentle  contrast  to  the  hurry,  the  confusion,  the  excitement, 
of  our  life  for  many  weeks. 

At  day,  dawn  we  were  up  and  away  to  the  forest  of  Fou- 


16'^  SOUVElftKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

taiuebleau,  thus  named  from  the  Foniaine  de  belle  ra?^  (the 
fouutain  of  fine  water,)  at  which  the  Danish  warrior,  Bierra, 
often  drank,  and  finally  there  made  his  camp,  in  845.  The 
forest  is  about  twelve  or  thirteen  leagues  in  circumference, 
and  is  said  to  be  the  largest  in  France.  It  has  always  been 
the  favorite  hunting-ground  of  the  kings,  and  often  of  queens, 
who  delighted  in  the  sport.  The  road  passed  through  the 
depths  of  the  green  shade,  but  to  us  it  seemed  little  like  a 
forest ;  for  in  all  directions  were  evidences  of  the  care  be- 
stowed upon  the  trees.  Tlie  large  ones  were  all  named, 
and  the  smaller  ones  numbered.  There  was  the  "  Oak  of  Mo- 
liere,"  then  the  "  Oak  of  Marie  Antoinette,"  "  The  Bouquet 
of  the  King,"  "  The  Queen's  Tree,"  and  many  other  ap- 
pellations, printed  upon  boards  and  attached  to  some  lofty 
limb. 

About  the  centre  of  the  forest  we  came  upon  the  ruins 
of  a  Convent,  four  centuries  old.  It  is  now  called  the 
"  Hermitage  of  Franchard,"  from  a  hermit  who  lived  there 
for  many  years.  Around  these  ruins  are  great  rocks ;  from 
one  of  them  there  flows  a  tiny  stream  of  water,  and  hence 
its  name,  "  The  Weeping  llock."  The  "Grotto  of  Fran- 
chard "  is  near  by,  and  a  lily-covered  lakelet,  styled  "  The 
Hermit's  Sea." 

We  spent  many  hours  exploring  the  forest  labyrinth,  and 
when  wearied  of  the  "  wild  woods,"  we  drove  to  the  Palace 
of  Fontainebleau,  so  rich  in  historical  associations.  We  en- 
tered it  by  the  "Court  of  the  White  Horse."  It  was  there 
Napoleon  bade  adieu  to  the  Old  Guard,  ere  he  left  for  Elba. 
The  Palace  is  not  remarkable  in  its  architecture.  Within  it 
are  many  fine  halls  and  frescoed  galleries.  We  passed 
through  the  apartments  of  Catherine  de  Medici,  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  along  the  corridor  where  Mondaldeschi  was 
murdered,  by  the  command  of  the  Queen  Christina  of  Sweden. 


KKM1NISCENCK8    OF    NAPOLEON.  lt>3 

We  entered  the  room  where  Napoleon  signed  his  abdication. 
The  table  upon  which  it  was  written  is  preserved,  beneath  a 
glass  case.  The  apartments  of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans, 
which  she  occupied  upon  her  marriage,  are  those  once  used 
by  the  admirable  Josephine.  There  is  a  throne-room,  a 
chapel,  and  a  theatre.  Many  of  the  rooms  are  hung  with 
gobelin  tapestry,  and  there  are  also. handsome  paintings.  A 
small  apartment,  containing  multitudes  of  plates  of  Sevres 
china,  was  very  curious.  These  plates  were  fastened  in  tlie 
wall  by  gilded  frames,  and  the  paintings  upon  them  repre- 
sented scenes  around  the  palace  and  in  the  forest.  There 
were  also  views  of  the  monuments  of  Paris,  and  of  Versailles. 
They  were  wonderful  in  their  perfection  of  color,  and  were 
as  beautiful  as  the  finest  pictures  upon  ivory. 

We  were  shown  the  apartments  occupied  by  the  Pope 
Pius,  during  his  forced  sojourn  in  the  palace  ;  also  "  The 
Chamber  of  Anne  of  Austria,"  which  is  superbly  furnished, 
in  the  fashion  of  her  time. 

The  remembrances  of  Napoleon  clustered  more  closely 
around  us  here  than  elsewhere  in  France,  for  the  two  great 
trials  of  his  life  were  here  enacted, — signing  the  bill  which 
divorced  him  from  his  loving  and  faithful  Josephine,  and 
that  of  his  abdication.  His  sleeping-room  remains  precisely 
as  he  left  it ;  and  upon  the  little  island  in  the  lake,  is  still 
preserved  the  summer-house,  where  he  retired  each  day  to 
spend  long  hours  in  meditation.  The  immense  carp  which 
fill  the  lake  came  at  our  call  to  be  fed. 

The  gardens  are  lovely.  There  are  fountains  and  water- 
falls, cool  grottoes  and  green  arbors,  groves  of  noble  trees, 
and  lawns  of  velvet-like  smoothness.  For  hours  we  wander- 
ed amid  the  parterres,  and  by  the  calm  lakelets,  the  only  oc- 
cupants and  admirers  of  all  this  beauty.  Although  for  cen- 
turies Fontainebleau  was  the  especial  resort  of  the  monarchs 


164  SOUVENIRS    OF   TEAVPX. 

of  France,  it  is  now  some  years  since  it  has  been  visited  by 
the  Emperor,  though  it  is  kept  up  with  all  the  elegance 
of  a  royal  residence.  There  was  a  great  charm  to  us,  in  the 
quiet,  pleasant  old  town;  and  with  real  regret  we  bade  adieu 
to  our  pretty  little  hostess,  and  in  the  soft  evening  twilight 
departed  for  P^is. 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

We  only  remained  a  few  days  in  Paris,  to  bid  adieu  to  dear 
friends,  who  were  returning  to  America,  and  to  prepare  for 
our  visit  to  Switzerland.  At  early  morning,  August  26th, 
we  drove  througli  the  "  Place  de  la  Bastile,"  en  route  for 
Dijon.  The  sun's  first  rays  fell  gloriously  upon  the  gilt 
Mercury  of  the  Column  of  July,  erected  to  the  memory  of 
those  who  died  nobly  fighting  for  the  "  glory  of  France." 

We  soon  reached  the  station,  and  then  away,  with  rapid 
speed,  to  Fontainebleau.  The  railway  passed  through  a  fer- 
tile country,  filled  with  vineyards  and  waving  fields  of  grain. 
We  stopped  at  Montereau,  at  Sens,  at  Joigny,  St.  Florentine, 
Nuits,  St.  Ravier,  Yerrey,  Plombieres,  and  ere  night  reached 
Dijon,  the  chief  town  of  the  Department  of  the  Cote  d'Or. 
The  streets  are  narrow,  and  the  houses  of  a  quaint  style  of 
architecture.  On  the  "  Place  d  Armes "  is  the  ancient 
palace  of  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy.  There  were  several  fine 
churches,  and  a  large  cathedral.  Near  the  gates  of  Dijon  is 
the  Chartreuse^  where  many  members  of  the  royal  family 
are  buried.  The  famous  wines  of  Chamhertin,  Vougeot,  and 
Romance,  are  made  from  the  grapes  of  the  vineyards  jubt 
without  the  walls. 

We  left  Dijon   at  half-past  three  in   the  morning,  in  tli«^ 


If) 6  80UVKNIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

diligence.  We  were  fortunate  to  get  the  coupe  seats,  which 
are  in  front,  thus  affording  us  a  fine  view  on  everj  side.  We 
waited  some  time  without  the  gates,  for  the  express  train 
from  Paris.  At  length  the  shrill  whistle  was  heard,  and  we 
were  soon  in  motion,  going  at  full  gallop  of  fifteen  miles  the 
hour.  It  was  still  night,  but  by  the  star-light  we  saw  many 
of  the  country  people  coming  to  market,  with  carts  made  of 
wicker  work,  precisely  like  giant  baskets  upon  wheels. 

When  morning  came,  we  looked  over  a  flat  country, 
highly  cultivated,  and  covered  with  fields  of  wheat  and  of 
Indian  corn,  (which  was  not  more  than  two  feet  high.)  We 
passed  through  a  number  of  towns,  all  built  upon  narrow, 
straggling  streets,  with  sharp-roofed  houses. 

We  breakfasted  about  eleven,  at  a  post-house  ;  but  such 
was  the  haste  of  our  guard,  that  we  had  only  time  to  scald 
our  tongues  with  the  boiling  coffee,  seize  a  piece  of  chicken 
in  our  fingers,  and  rush  back  to  the  diligence,  leaving  the 
luscious-looking  pears,  plums,  and  melons,  upon  the  table. 
There  was  evidently  a  "  combination, ".as  we  say  in  x\nierica, 
between  the  inn-keeper  and  the  guard,  for  they  exchanged 
significant  glances,  as  we  poor,  hungry  mortals,  unwillingly 
left  the  room. 

Now  our  (juard^  or  guardian,  was  a  decided  character  in 
his  line,  and  accompanied  us  from  Dijon  to  Geneva,  a  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles.  He  was  a  stout 
Frenchman,  with  Napoleonic  beard,  and  a  blouse  over  his  of- 
ficial coat.  His  manner  was  the  very  "  attar  of  rose  "  of  im- 
portance. The  horses  were  changed  every  fifteen  miles,  with 
great  despatch,  (two  minutes  being  the  time  allowed.)  Every 
five  minutes  our  guard  sprang  down  from  the  top  of  the  dili- 
gence, ruslied  around  it,  examined  the  wheels,  touched  the 
traces,  JTulled  the  reins,  muttering  all  the  while  his  favorite 
oath,  "  Sacre  nom  de  Dieu,"  (giving  tlie  r  in  sacre  the  most 


THK   JURA    MOUNTAINS.  167 

peculiar  roll,)  then  looking  up  he  would  cry  out,  "  en  route  ! 
en  route  !  "  ia  a  loud  tone,  and  spring  like  a  tiger  upon  the 
iron  step,  and  in  one  more  second  be  standing  upon  the  top 
of  the  lumbering  diligence,  which  really  seemed  to  have  been 
built  upon  the  model  of  the  ark.  There  were  twelve  inside, 
and  an  indefinite  number  without,  besides  several  dogs,  whose 
masters  paid  full  price  for  them  in  the  Banquette.  When- 
ever we  stopped,  a  ladder  was  brought,  that  the  occupants 
of  the  upper  regions  might  descend  in  safety. 

About  mid-day  we  began  the  ascent  of  the  Jura  Moun- 
tains ;  so  gradual  it  was,  that  the  horses  continued  in  a  gal- 
lop until  we  were  half-way  up  ;  then  others  were  attached  to 
the  four  already  in  the  diligence.  Around  and  around  we 
passed.  On  all  sides  the  view  was  charming;  the  valleys 
were  green  and  quiet,  save  the  "  brawling  brook,"  which 
rushed  through  each,  turning  mills,  or  falling  in  graceful  wa- 
terfalls over  ledges  of  gray  rock.  We  often  drove  along  the 
side  of  a  mountain,  while  the  opposite  one,  separated  by  a 
deep  abyss,  seemed  so  near  that  we  could  almost  touch  it. 
The  road  was  admirable,  as  smooth  as  a  parlor  floor,  as 
even  as  the  macadamized  coad  of  Maysville,  or  the  shell 
road  of  Spring  Hill.  At  tiiues  a  narrow  shelf  was  cut  down 
along  the  mountain-side,  and  upon  this  we  passed.  As  a 
parapet  was  built  towards  the  precipice,  we  felt  quite  secure, 
and,  without  an  emotion  of  fear,  looked  down  hundreds  and 
hundreds  of  feet,  into  the  lovely  glen  below,  where  nestled  a 
little  village,  beneath  the  spreading  branches  of  great  old 
oaks. 

As  we  advanced  into  the  depths  of  the  mountains  the 
scenery  became  more  wild,  and  all  evidences  of  cultivation 
vanished.  The  fir  trees  of  conical  shape  and  the  foliage  of 
intense  green  covered  the  mountains  to  their  summit,- giving 
them  a  dark  and  gloomy  aspect. 


168  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

We  often  met  men,  women,  and  children,  breaking  up 
stones  and  placing  them  upon  the  road,  and  also  encountered 
many  carts  of  the  peasantry  on  their  way  to  the  villages. 
We  had  before  been  told  it  was  market-day,  for  in  all  the 
towns  through  which  we  had  passed",  we  saw  the  country  peo- 
ple buying  and  selling  in  the  principal  street.  They  are  a 
homely  race  of  human  beings,  and  even  the  children  have  the 
look  of  old  age,  while  the  women  are  uglier  than  the  men. 

At  three  we  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  last  high  moun- 
tain of  the  Jura  chain.  Slowly  we  wound  around  the  bold 
cliflPs  of  "  La  Vattay,"  until  we  attained  an  immense  eleva- 
tion. The  houses  in  the  vale  below  appeared  no  larger  than 
bird-cages,  and  the  little  river  no  wider  than  a  silver  ribbon, 
and  yet  it  seemed  we  could  throw  a  stone  and  strike  either, 
we  were  so  directly  over  them. 

The  gorges  of  the  mountains  were  very  narrow,  and  here 
and  there  were  small  chalets  perched  on  a  projection  of  the 
cliff,  which  it  must  have  been  impossible  to  reach  except  by 
ladders. 

At  last  we  reached  the  summit  of  "  La  Vattay,"  and  I 
was  looking  back  upon  the  willing  road  we  had  travelled, 
when  Octavia  cried  out  in  an  exulting  voice,  "  There  is  Mont 
Blanc,  and  I  was  the  first  to  see  it !  "  There  indeed  was 
Mont  Blanc ! 

"  Mont  Blanc  is  the  monarch  of  mountains, 
Tbcy  crowned  him  long  ago, 
On  a  throne  of  rocks,  in  robes  of  clouds, 
"With  a  diadem  of  snow." 

There  was  a  wonderful  clearness  in  the  atmosphere,  ren- 
dering distant  objects  perfectly  visible.  The'  evening  sun, 
hidden  from  us  by  "  La  Vattay,''  threw  its  rays  directly  upon 
the  Mont  Blanc  chain  of  mountains,  lighting  them  up  with  a 
roseate  hue    indescribably  beautiful.       The    majestic    Mont 


LAKE   LEMAN.  169 

Blanc,  and  the  peaks  around,  appeared  only  a  few  miles  away ; 
and  yet  the  distance  was  more  than  forty-five  miles.  We 
were  peculiarly  fortunate,  for  it  is  not  often  the  "  monarch 
mountain  "  is  thus  revealed  in  unclouded  splendor.  Near  the 
summit  were  several  great  black  rocks,  never  covered  by 
snow,  in  consequence  of  the  force  of  the  wind.  Between 
"  The  Needles  "  (the  peaks  around)  were  the  glittering  gla- 
ciers, of  a  deep  blue  color.  Midway  up  the  mountain  was  a 
belt  of  white  clouds  clustering  around  it  like  flocks  of  snow- 
winged  birds. 

With  emotions  of  intense  delight  we  gazed  upon  this 
scene  of  grand  yet  quiet  loveliness.  At  our  feet  was  the 
valley  of  Geneva,  entirely  shut  in  by  the  lofty  mountains  on 
every  side.  In  the  centre  were  the  lake  and  the  city,  and 
around  it  numerous  villages,  handsome  villas,  well  cultivated 
farms  and  country-houses.  Far  away  were  sailing-boats  like 
graceful  swans  cleaving  the  dark  blue  waters.  It  seemed  to 
us  the  realization  of  the  "  Happy  Valley  of  Basselas."  The 
lake  is  of  a  crescent  shape,  and  fifty-five  miles  long.  It  was 
called  by  the  Romans  "  Lacus  Lemanus,"  and  is  styled  "  Lake 
Leman,"  by  Byron,  in  his  graphic  description  of  the  lake  in 
a  "  calm :  " 

"Clear,  placid  Leman!  thy  contrasted  lake, 
With  the  wild  world  I  dwell  in,  is  a  thing 
Which  warns  me  with  its  stillness,  to  forsake 
Earth's  troubled  waters  for  a  purer  spring." 

Then  his  spirited  picture  of  a  "  storm  :  " 

*'  Now,  where  the  swift  Rhone  cleaves  his  way  between 
Heights,  which  appear  as  lovers  who  have  parted 
In  hate,  whose  mining  depths  so  intervene 
They  can  meet  no  more,  though  broken-hearted." 

Vol.  T.— 8 


170  SOUVENIKS    OF   TKAVEL. 

We  were  two  hours  descending  the  mountain,  with  Mont 
Blanc  constantly  in  view,  at  each  turn  of  the  road  seeming 
more  majestic.  The  diligence  drew  up  at  a  spring,  and  the 
guard  showed  us  a  marble  tablet,  which  marks  the  spot 
where  Naj^oleon  stopped  to  look  upon  Geneva,  as  he  was 
entering  it  as  conqueror.  What  a  wondrous  power  still 
exists  even  in  the  remembrance  of  Napoleon  !  it  encircles  the 
Continent  like  an  atmosphere  ;  and  yet  he  perished  a  captive 
on  that  lonely  isle  in  mid-ocean.  Every  where  in  Europe 
have  we  seen  tributes  to  him  in  cities,  in  valleys,  on  plains, 
and  even  in  the  depths  of  the  mountains  the  inscription  of 
his  name  rendered  almost  sacred  the  wild  pass. 

We  would  fain  have  lingered  longer  with  the  glorious 
landscape  before  us,  but  the  diligence,  like  Time,  "  waits  for 
no  man,"  (much  less  for  woman,)  and  soon  we  drove  rapidly 
to  the  city,  being  delayed  at  the  gates  some  time  by  the 
troublesome  passports,  the  greatest  bore  of  European  travel. 
We  had  been  told,  ere  we  left  Paris,  that  passports  would  not 
be  needed  in  Switzerland ;  imagine  therefore  our  amazement 
when  they  were  examined  three  times  before  we  reached 
Geneva,  and  there  the  Prefect  of  Police  took  possession  of 
them,  giving  us  a  written  permission  to  remain  a  certain 
number  of  days. 


CHAPTEE    XXI. 

Geneva. — The  city  contains  thirty-two  thousand  inhabit- 
ants. It  is  divided  into  two  portions  by  the  Rhone,  over 
which  are  many  bridges.  In  the  centre  of  the  rushing  river 
is  the  "  Island  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,"  built  there  by 
the  Government  to  contain  his  monument,  which  is  of  bronze, 
in  the  midst  of  immense  poplar  trees.  The  view  from  this 
island  is  exquisite.  Rousseau  was  a  native  of  Geneva,  son  of 
a  watchmaker.  One  night  he  reached  the  gates  after  they 
were  closed,  and  fearing  the  anger  of  the  stern  master  to 
whom  he  was  apprenticed,  he  fled  to  France. 

Geneva  is  singularly  interesting  from  its  associations.  It 
has  exercised  the  most  powerful  influence  over  Europe  by 
the  religious  tenets  of  Calvin,  the  very  same  that  drove  our 
Pilgrim  Fathers  across  the  broad  Atlantic.  Calvin  came  to 
Geneva  in  1536,  an  itinerant  preacher,  and  such  was  the 
power  of  his  eloquence,  he  became  ruler  over  the  people  for 
the  space  of  twenty-three  years.  In  fact,  through  his  influ- 
ence Geneva  gave  laws  to  the  whole  Protestant  world,  as 
Rome  does  to  the  Catholic.  John  Knox  fled  to  Geneva  in 
1558,  to  escape  the  cruelties  of  Queen  Mary,  and  was  made 
a  citizen  by  Calvin.  Necker,  the  father  of  Mme.  de  Stael, 
Saussure,  the  first  who  ascended  Mont  Blanc,  Sismondi,  the 


172  SOUVENIKS    OP'    TRAVEL. 

historian,  Decandolle,  the  botanist,  and  many  other  distin- 
guished persons,  were  born  in  Geneva. 

The  city  is  on  the  southern  extremity  of  the  lake  towards 
•  France.  It  is  a  busy,  commercial  place,  with  narrow  streets 
and  very  tall  houses ;  many  are  ten  stories  high.  As  it  is 
built  on  several  hills,  from  the  windows  of  the  upper  town 
we  looked  down  upon  the  roofs  of  the  lower  portion  of  the 
city.  We  stopped  at  the  "  Ecu  de  Geneve,"  an  excellent 
hotel ;  almost  as  good  as  those  in  America.  It  is  just  upon 
the  bank  of  the  dashing  Rhone,  and  we  dined  at  seven,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  the  rushing  waters. 

We  spent  three  or  four  days  in  a  delightful  manner,  visit- 
ing the  curiosities  of  the  town,  and  driving  amid  the  environs. 
We  saw  the  church  of  Saint  Pierre,  commenced  in  the 
eleventh  century.  It  contains  the  same  pulpit  in  which 
Calvin  preached.  It  is  a  simple  and  plain  building,  without 
ornament.  In  front  of  it  is  an  old  tree,  called  the  "  Oak  of 
Calvin."  The  great  reformer  forbade  the  people  of  Geneva 
to  erect  over  his  body  any  monument.  His  grave  has  only 
a  marble  slab,  with  the  letters  "  J.  C."  upon  it. 

We  visited  the  ditch  called  "  La  Corraterie,"  the  scene 
of  the  famous  "  Escalade  "  in  1602,  when  the  town  was 
nearly  captured  by  the  Savoyards.  The  anniversary  of  the 
night  is  still  celebrated,  and  the  iron  saucepan  shown,  with 
which  a  woman  killed  the  first  soldier  who  scaled  the  walls. 
The  "  Eelief  of  Mont  Blanc  "  is  a  curious  work.  It  is 
carved  out  of  wood  by  Sene,  who  was  ten  years  in  complet- 
ing it.  This  "Relief"  maybe  styled  the  model  of  Moni 
Blanc.  It  is  one  six-millionth  part  of  the  original.  All  the 
valleys,  villages,  trees,  chalets,  and  glaciers  are  miniatures  of 
the  natural  landscape. 

Next  we  went  to  the  "  Musee  Rath,"  a  building  given  to 
the  city  by  General  Rath,  whose  bust  adorns  the  entrance. 


FERNET — SAD    ACCIDENT.  173 

There  \vere  several  good  paintings  by  native  artists  of  Alpine 
scenery,  and  a  picture  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  said  to  be  a 
remarkable  resemblance.  The  "  Death-bed  scene  of  Calvin  " 
was  excellent,  also  the  "  Release  of  Bonnivard."  The  botani- 
cal gardens,  laid  out  by  Decandolle,  are  very  fine,  containing 
the  rarest  flowers,  and  most  magnificent  old  trees. 

"We  drove  to  the  "junction  of  the  rivers."  The  Bhone 
leaves  the  lake  as  clear  as  crystal.  The  stones  and  pebbles 
can  be  distinctly  seen  twenty  feet  deep.  The  Arve  comes 
directly  from  the  glaciers  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  is  like  a  stream 
of  mud.  The  two  rivers  flow  on  side  by  side  for  a  long  dis- 
tance ere  they  mingle  into  one.  At  last  the  dark  overpowers 
the  bright^  and  the  clear  blue  waters  of  the  Rhone  are  lost 
in  the  turbulent  Arve.  Thus  the  influence  of  the  evil 
often  overcomes  the  good  in  the  natural  as  well  as  in  the 
moral  world. 

From  the  Rhone  and  the  Arve,  we  continued  our  drive 
to  Ferney,  once  the  dwelling-place  of  Voltaire,  and  thereby 
"  made  most  classic  ground."  He  lived  there  twenty  years, 
and  some  relics  of  him  are  yet  preserved.  On  a  height  near 
Ferney,  we  obtained  an  admirable  view  of  the  city  and  of 
Mont  Blanc.  In  front  of  us  were  the  Salene  Mountains, 
where,  only  one  month  since,  a  sad  accident  occurred  to  two 
Englishmen.  They  attempted  to  scale  the  mountain,  which 
presents  an  almost  perpendicular  wall  of  rock,  and  both  fell 
into  a  dark  chasm  two  hundred  feet  deep.  One  was  in- 
stantly killed,  and  the  other  had  his  leg  fearfully  crushed. 
He  remained  twelve  hours  in  this  situation  by  the  side  of  his 
dead  comrade.  Some  peasants  going  out  at  early  morn- 
ing to  their  work,  heard  his  shrieks  of  despair,  and  coming 
to  the  verge  of  the  abyss,  they  fastened  ropes  above  to  the 
rocks,  and  swung  themselves  down  to  the  wretched  suff'erer ; 
then  they  tied  strong  cords  around  him,   and  those  above 


174:  SOUVENIES    OF   TRAVEL. 

drew  him  up  and  brought  him  to  the  city,  where  he  still 
lingers  in  great  anguish. 

We  went  to  the  '*  Campagne  Diodati,"  where  Byron  wrote 
his  Manfred ;  also,  the  third  canto  of  Childe  Harold.  In 
1816  he  lived  there  for  some  time. 

We  have  met  many  agreeable  people  in  Geneva,  among 
whom  we  were  glad  to  greet  our  excellent  friends  Major  and 
Mrs.  Porter,  of  America.  The  Rhone  was  a  perfect  enchant- 
ment to  me.  Upon  its  swiftly  flowing  waters  I  gazed  for 
hours;  they  were  singularly  blue,  as  blue  as  indigo.  This 
color  is  said  to  be  produced  by  the  admixture  of  iodine ;  at 
least,  such  was  the  opinion  of  Sir  Humphrey  Davy.  When 
night  came,  the  lights  upon  the  islands,  and  in  the  city, 
reflected  into  the  river,  made  a  grand  illumination  beneath 
the  waters.  Long  would  we  tarry  at  our  parlor-window, 
looking  out  upon  the  novel  scene,  until  the  quietude  of  the 
midnight  was  around  us,  broken  only  by  the  dashing  Rhone 
and  the  jingle  of  the  bells  of  the  diligence ;  then,  often  in 
the  visions  of  the  dream-world,  the  monarch  mountain  loom- 
ed majestically  grand  and  sublime. 

Aug.  dOth. — By  six  this  morning  we  were  up,  seated  by 
the  open  window,  writing  letters  to  our  dear  ones  at  home. 
The  soft  light  fell  sweetly  upon  the  winged  Rhone,  for  it 
really  seems  the  waters  do  not  run,  but  fly  with  the  swift- 
ness of  a  bird.  By  eight  we  were  on  board  a  small  steamer 
ascending  the  lake ;  the  mists  enveloped  the  mountains,  but 
gradually  disappeared,  thus  unfolding  scene  after  scene  of 
picturesque  beauty.  Along  the  shores  were  many  elegant 
villas  built  by  English  people,  who  have  a  great  aflfection  for 
this  lake. 

Morgcs  was  the  first  town  at  which  we  touched.  Near  it 
is  the  "  Old  Castle  of  Wuff'ens."  Tradition  says  it  was 
built  by  Queen  Bertha  in  the  tenth  century. 


SCENES  UPON  THE  LAKE.  1Y5 

"We  coasted  slowly  along  until  we  came  to  Laussane,  on 
the  north  shore  of  the  lake.  We  landed  at  Ouchcy,  the  sea 
or  lake  port  of  the  city.  Just  on  the  shore  we  saw  the 
"  Hotel  de  I'Ancre,"  where  Lord  Byron  wrote  his  "  Prisoner 
of  Chillon,"  in  the  space  of  two  days,  while  an  Alpine  storm 
detained  him  within  its  walls. 

From  Ouchey,  we  drove  one  mile  to  Laussane,  a  singu- 
lar-looking town,  with  streets  as  steep  and  winding  as  the 
road  across  the  Jura.  On  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
upon  whose  side  the  houses  seem  to  cling,  is  the  cathedral. 
It  is  the  finest  Gothic  church  in  Switzerland,  and  was  begun  in 
the  year  1000,  and  completed  in  1275.  The  interior  is  cold, 
white,  and  unadorned  by  either  pictures  or  statuary.  There 
are,  however,  several  mail-clad  efl&gies  of  great  men  of  the 
olden  time ;  among  them,  that  of  Otho  of  Granson,  and  of 
Bernard  de  Menthon,  the  founder  of  the  Hospice  of  the  great 
St.  l^ernard.  Curious  pillars  sustain  the  lofty  roof;  they 
consist  of  one  large  central  column,  with  eight  smaller  ones 
clustering  around  it.  There  was  no  altar,  but  an  elaborately 
carved  pulpit,  whence  the  faith  of  Calvin  is  preached.  In 
front  of  the  cathedral  was  a  broad  terrace,  from  which  we 
looked  down  upon  the  roofs  of  houses  seven  stories  high.  To 
attain  this  height  we  climbed  up  six  hundred  steps,  but  were 
amply  repaid  by  the  magnificent  view  which  met  our  eyes  as 
we  left  the  cathedral.  The  entire  lake  was  revealed  to  us, 
while  to  the  south,  the  Alps  of  Savoy  loomed  up  like  grand 
ramparts.  In  all  directions  were  villages,  vineyards,  green 
meadows,  and  yellow  grain-fields. 

As  we  were  gazing  upon  this  lovely  scene,  afar  over  Mont 
Blanc  came  the  black  clouds,  and  we  were  warned  a  storm 
was  approaching  ;  so  we  hastened  down  the  steps,  and  sought 
shelter  in  the  "  Hotel  Gibbon,"  and  thence  into  the  garden 
to  a  pavilion,  built  upon  the  precise  spot  where  stood  the 


176  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

sunimer-house  in  which  the  great  historian  wrote  the  last 
words  of  the  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire."  It 
was  upon  a  cliff  overlooking  the  whole  lake.  There  we  seat- 
ed ourselves  to  watch  the  coming  storm,  with  Byron's  poem 
to  "  Lake  Leman  "  in  our  hands.  How  often,  in  "  other 
days,"  had  these  stanzas  delighted  us,  and  little  did  imagina- 
tion picture,  then,  the  one  hour  of  our  life  filled  with  the 
vision  of  wild  beauty  therein  described.  It  was  a  glorious 
spectacle  !  Over  the  great  mountains  came  the  black-winged 
clouds,  parted  at  intervals  by  the  red  gleams  of  the  lightning, 
which  seemed  not  only  to  cleave  their  dark  masses,  but  to 
dart  down  beneath  the  waters  of  the  yet  placid  lake. 

"  Far  along, 
From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among, 
Leaps  the  live  thunder !    Not  from  one  lone  cloud, 
But  every  mountain  now  hath  found  a  tongue, 
And  Jura  answers,  through  her  misty  shroud, 
Back  to  the  joyous  Alps,  who  call  to  her  aloud ! 

Soon  the  peals  of  "  heaven's  own  artillery  "  proclaimed 
the  approach  of  the  Storm-King.  Then  the  calm  lake  seem- 
ed to  awaken  from  its  silence,  and  the  white  waves  dashed 
madly  upon  the  shore,  until  the  azure  hue  of  its  waters  was 
lost  in  sheets  of  fleecy  foam,  almost  rivalling  the  snow  of  the 
Alps  above.  The  wind  rushed  down  the  gorges  of  the 
mountains,  with  a  wailing  plaint,  like  the  anguish  of  despair, 
and  mingled  with  the  thunder  and  the  dashing  waves,  in 
strange  and  wild  harmony.  We  were  truly  grieved  when 
great  cataracts  of  rain  came  down  from  the  black  clouds, 
thus  draining  them  of  their  gloomy  grandeur. 

The  thunder  still  murmured  among  the  Alps,  the  lake 
was  still  white  with  its  snow-crested  waves,  when  a  summons 
reached  us,  that  we  must  hasten  to  Ouchey  to  be  in  season 


SEA-SICKNESS    ON   I^AKE    LlOtAN.  1Y7 

for  the  steamer.  Thus  we  were  compelled  to  leave  the  pa- 
vilion of  the  "  Hotel  Gibbon."  "We  jumped  into  the  car- 
riage, and  drove  rapidly  down  the  mountain  streets.  On 
each  side  of  the  road  were  great  streams,  dashing  along  with 
the  fleetness  of  the  chamois.  From  them  we  could  well  im- 
agine the  resistless  power  of  an  Alpine  torrent,  for  even  rocks 
in  their  way  were  borne  along  as  though  they  were  but 
feathers. 

By  the  time  we  came  to  the  beach,  all  traces  of  the  storm 
had  vanished,  though  the  lake  was  yet  fretting  and  foaming. 
As  the  steamer  could  not  touch  at  the  quai  for  us,  we  were 
taken  off  to  her  in  a  small  boat,  and  had  rather  a  perilous 
row  over  the  "  troubled  waters,"  which  however  ended  safe- 
ly, and  we  were  soon  steaming  up  to  Yevay.  On  board 
were  the  most  mournful  set  of  passengers.  They  had  en- 
countered the  storm  in  the  mid-lake,  and  had  all  been  "  sea- 
sick," and  were  drenched  with  rain,  having  been  forced  to 
remain  on  deck,  in  consequence  of  their  terror.  "  Sea-sick 
on  Lake  Leman  !  "  exclaimed  a  fat  Eqglishman,  "  it  is  a  dese- 
cration of  romance  and  poetry."  "  Sea-sick  on  Lake  Leman !  " 
cried  a  delicate  woman,  ''  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  ghost 
of  Lord  Byron  were  to  rise  in  horror  !  "  Poor  creatures  ! 
how  they  mourned  and  sighed  ! — the  Germans  smoked  furi- 
ously, and  the  Englishmen  consoled  themselves  by  cursing 
the  steamer,  and  all  pertaining  to  the  lake.  Happily  for 
us,  we  had  only  enjoyed  the  magnificence  of  the  scene,  seated 
in  our  eyrie,  o'erlooking  the  tumultuous  lake,  and  realizing 
all  the  grandeur  of  Byron's  description. 

Yevay. — It  was  a  bright  evening  when  we  reached  Vevay, 
and  a  charming  walk  brought  us  to  the  "  Hotel  of  the  Three 
Crowns " — a  fine  house,  with  floors  of  mosaic  of  marble, 
noble  corridors,  and  a  splendid   dining-room,  with  windows 

Vol.  I.— 8* 


178  SOUVENIKS    OF   TKAVEL. 

opening  upon  an  exquisite  flower-garden,  planted  on  a  terrace 
just  on  the  verge  of  the  lake. 

After  dinner,  we  walked  along  the  shore  for  several 
hours.  The  deepest  silence  prevailed,  broken  only  by  the 
ripple  of  the  waters  upon  the  beach.  The  margin  of  the 
horizon  was  darkened  by  the  bold  Alps,  and  Jura's  chain 
was  visible  in  the  dim  distance.  The  air  was  filled  with 
fragrance,  and  "  nature  seemed  in  sober  contemplation  "  to 
spread  its  wings  of  peace  over  the  fair  land, 

"  Lake  Lemau  woos  me  with  its  crystal  face, 
The  mirror  where  the  stars  and  mountains  view 
The  stillness  of  their  aspect,  in  each  trace 
Its  clear  depth  yields  of  their  far  height  and  hue." 

Our  weariness  was  all  forgotten  in  the  calm  loveliness  of  the 
night,  and  from  our  very  heart  we  uttered : 

"  And  this  is  in  the  night,  most  glorious  night ! 
Tliou  wcrt  not  made  for  slumber." 

Firmly  impressed  witl^  that  belief,  we  lingered  on  the  star- 
lit terrace  until  long  after  the  midnight. 

Vevay  is  the  Roman  Vibiscum;  it  is  built  on  the 
shores  of  the  lake,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  vine-covered  moun- 
tains, and  has  an  admirable  view  of  the  snowy  Alps.  Rous- 
seau declared  that  it  was  the  most  lovely  spot  of  earth.  In 
a  grove  above  the  town  we  found  a  quaint-looking  church, 
erected  in  1438.  It  is  noted  as  the  burial-place  of  Brougli- 
ton,  who  read  the  sentence  of  death  to  Charles  I. ;  also  of 
Ludlow,  the  regicide.  Many  famous  wines  are  made  from 
the  grapes  of  the  vineyards  near  Vevay,  among  which  the 
Fluoric  and  La  Vaux  are  the  most  delicious. 

We  accompanied  an  agreeable  party  to  "  Chillon,"  and 
there  passed  an  enchanting  day.  Wc  were  rowed  down  in  a 
small  boat  with  a  fanciful  awning.     The   blue  waters  spar- 


THE  CASTLE  OF  CHILLON.  1Y9 

kled  like  myriads  of  gems  in  the  radiant  sun-light,  as  we 
slowly  glided  along.  Clarens  first  claimed  our  interest,  as 
the  dwelling-place  of  Rousseau's  "  Julie,"  and  around  which 
Byron  has  also  thrown  the  immortality  of  his  verse. 

*'  Clarens,  sweet  Clarens,  birthplace  of  deep  Love! 
Thine  air  is  the  young  breath  of  passionate  thought : 
Thy  trees  take  root  in  Love  ;  the  snows  above 
The  very  glaciers  have  his  colors  caught, 
And  sun-set  into  rose-hues  sees  them  wrought, 
By  rays  which  sleep  there  lovingly." 

Next  came  the  Castle  of  Blonay,  and  the  Chatelard,  and 
the  village  of  3Iontreux,  said  to  be  the  healthiest  town  on 
the  lake.  For  the  population,  fewer  persons  die  there  than 
in  any  other  part  of  the  world. 

The  shores  of  Lake  Leman  are  in  striking  contrast.  On 
the  ni)rth  side,  immense  mountains  crowd  to  the  verge  of 
the  water ;  they  are  barren,  and  furrowed  with  great  wrinkles ; 
while  to  the  south,  the  swelling  hills  and  vine-covered  slopes 
come  down  to  meet  the  pretty  little  villages,  chalets,  and  long 
avenues  of  old  oaks. 

"  Lake  Leman  lies  by  Chillon's  walls ; 
A  thousand  feet  in  depth  below 
Its  massy  waters  meet  and  flow ; 
Thus  much  the  fathom-line  was  sent 
From  Chillon's  snow-white  battlement." 

The  Casih  of  Chillon. — ^Yith  feelings  of  almost  rev- 
erence we  crossed  the  wooden  bridge  connecting  Chillon  to  the 
main  land,  and  entered  the  time-worn  walls  of  the  Castle. 
Tt  was  built  upon  a  great  rock,  near  the  south  shore  of  the 
lake,  in  l^SS,  by  Amedeus  of  Savoy,  and  used  by  him  as  a 
prison-house.  A  pretty  blue-eyed  Swiss  girl,  with  a  large 
straw  flat  upon  her  head,  was  our  cicerone,  or   guide.     She 


180  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

described,  in  good  French,  all  the  wonders  of  the  Castle,  and 
vre  eagerly  followed  her  through  all  the  windings  and  twist- 
ings  of  the  old  towers,  up  stone  steps  to  the  highest  points, 
and  down  them  to  the  "  depths  below." 

The  walls  of  the  Castle  are  of  great  thickness ;  lofty  tur- 
rets spring  from  the  four  corners  of  the  building,  while  one 
of  immense  height  rises  from  the  centre.  In  the  southern 
turret  we  were  shown  the  apartments  once  occupied  by  Count 
Pierre  and  his  beautiful  wife.  The  frescoes  on  the  walls  are 
still  bright  in  many  places,  although  centuries  have  passed 
since  the  artist  painted  them.  From  the  window  of  the 
countess's  chamber,  we  beheld  a  view  of  unrivalled  loveliness. 
Far  beneath  the  surface  of  the  lake,  are  the  dungeons,  and 
the  oubliettes — trap-doors — through  which  the  condemned 
were  thrown  into  a  dark  chasm,  where  myriads  of  knives, 
with  up-turned  points,  received  them,  and  quickly  did  the 
work  of  death. 

In  the  dungeons  of  Chillon  many  of  the  Reformers  were 
confined.  Bonnivard  was  the  real  "  Prisoner  of  Chillon." 
He  was  the  Prior  of  Saint  Victor,  and  having  ofi'ended  the 
Duke,  was  secretly  conveyed  to  the  Castle,  and  imprisoned 
for  the  space  of  six  years.  In  1536  the  Swiss  conquered  the 
country  from  Charles  of  Savoy.  Chillon  held  out  for  him 
until  the  "  Pays  de  Vaud  "  was  captured ;  then  seven  thou- 
sand Bernese,  besieging  it  by  land  and  water,  soon  obtained 
possession,  and  freed  all  the  prisoners;  among  them  was  Bon- 
nivard. At  the  Musee  Bath,  in  Geneva,  we  had  seen  a 
painting  representing  the  "  Belease  of  Bonnivard."  The 
picture  shows  him  chained  to  the  column,  his  black  robe 
clinging  around  his  emaciated  form,  and  his  long  gray  hair 
floating  wildly  over  his  shoulders.  His  eyes  are  raised  to- 
wards heaven,  while  the  expression  of  his  face  tells  the  story 
of  his  sufferings.     Although   the  soldiers  have  stricken  off 


THE   DUNGEON   OF   BONNIVAKD.  181 

his  chains,  he  still  remains  motionless  as  a  statue.  Wonder- 
ful changes  occurred  while  Bonnivard  was  a  prisoner.  He 
had  left  Geneva  devoted  to  the  Catholic  faith,  and  a  depen- 
dency on  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  He  found  it,  when  he  came 
out,  free,  a  Republic,  and  professing  the  Reformed  religion. 
The  dungeon  of  Bonnivard  was  very  large ;  a  portion  of 
it  cut  out  of  the  living  rock.  It  had  "  seven  columns,  massy 
and  gray."  The  roof  was  arched,  and  it  bore  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  the  crypt  of  a  church.  There  were  several  aper- 
tures like  windows,  through  which  the  sunlight  entered ;  not 
the  true  sunbeams,  but  rays  reflected  from  the  surface  of  the 
lake,  tinged  with  the  blue  of  its  waters : 

"A  sunbeam  which  hath  lost  its  way, 
And  through  the  crevice  and  the  cleft 
Of  the  thick  wall,  is  fallen  and  left ; 
Creeping  o'er  the  floor  so  damp, 
Like  a  marsh's  meteor-lamp." 

As  we  loitered  amid  the  recesses  of  the  prison,  a  discus- 
sion arose  among  the  party  on  the  possibility  of  seeing  the 
"  Little  Isle."  Several  contended  it  was  not  visible  from  the 
apertures  of  the  dungeon,  but  upon  closer  inspection  we  dis- 
covered it  could  be  seen  by  a  man  as  tall  as  the  paintings 
represent  Bonnivard  : 

"  And  then  there  was  a  little  Isle, 
Which  in  my  very  face  did  smile, 

The  only  one  in  view ; 
A  small  green  Isle — it  seemed  no  more. 
Scarce  broader  than  my  dungeon  floor ; 
But  in  it  there  were  three  taU  trees, 
And  o'er  it  blew  the  mountain-breeze, 
And  by  it  there  were  waters  flowing, 
And  on  it  were  young  flowers  growing, 
Of  gentle  breath  and  hue." 


182  sorvENms  of  travel. 

We  were  pointed  out  the  ring  to  which  Bonnivard  was 
chained  for  six  years,  and  saw  the  traces  of  his  footsteps  in 
the  solid  rock,  worn  by  constant  pacing.  Tt  is  said  Byron 
was  ignorant  of  the  suflferings  of  the  real  prisoner  until  after 
he  had  completed  his  poem ;  but  this  cannot  be,  as  he  has  too 
truly  portrayed  the  bitterness  of  that 

"  living  grave 
Below  the  surface  of  the  lake." 

His  sonnet  to  Bonnivard  is  exquisite : 

"  Chillon!  thy  prison  is  a  holy  place, 
And  thy  sad  floor  an  altar ;  for  'twas  trod 
Until  his  very  steps  have  left  a  trace 
"Worn,  as  if  the  cold  pavement  were  a  sod, 
By  Bonnivard !     May  none  those  marks  eflace. 
For  they  appeal  from  tyranny  to  God." 

A  queer  old  Englishman  joined  us  as  we  were  descending 
the  dungeon  steps,  and  he  questioned  every  statement  of  the 
Swiss  girl,  and  at  last  insisted  the  prisoner  could  only  have 
walked  four  steps  one  way  and  four  steps  the  other ;  thus  the 
rock  was  worn  away  by  the  feet  of  other  persons,  purposely 
to  "  humbug  visitors."  How  provoking  are  these  nil  admi- 
rari  people,  throwing  a  black  veil  over  enjoyment,  and  de- 
stroying the  romance  of  one's  feelings.  Enthusiasm  is  always 
delightful,  and  we  found  ourselves  irresistibly  drawn  towards 
those  of  our  party  who  felt  the  potent  spell  of  genius,  cast 
around  the  spot  by  the  mighty  mind  of  the  great  poet. 

At  evening  we  returned  to  Yevay,  passing  again  the  pic- 
turesque scenery  which  had  so  charmed  us  in  the  morning. 
We  spent  some  hours  walking  through  the  town,  and  stopping 
by  the  fountains,  where  crowds  of  women  were  assembled, 
dipping  up  water  in  large  buckets,  for  their  family  use. 
French  appeared  the  language  generally  gpoken,  though  we 


VIEW    FROM    CLAKENS.  183 

heard  also  a  harsh-sounding  patois.  The  inhabitants  were 
rather  a  homely  people,  sallow  and  thin ;  they  were  polite 
and  kindly-mannered.  Several  times  during  our  wanderings 
we  lost  our  way,  and  were  obliged  to  inquire  of  the  passers- 
by  the  proper  direction.  Invariably,  they  not  only  told  us, 
but  accompanied  us  a  portion  of  the  distance,  talking  in  the 
most  intelligent  manner,  and  giving  us  any  information  we 
required.  Whenever  we  went  into  the  shops,  they  would  in- 
sist that  we  should  be  seated  ere  they  displayed  their  goods. 
When  they  found  we  came  from  America,  they  often  said, 
"  America  is  a  noble  country ;  it  is  free,  like  our  own  !  "  The 
government  of  Switzerland  resembles  that  of  the  Hepublic 
of  the  United  States ;  their  President  is  elected  once  in  five 
years. 

The  environs  of  Vevay  are  exceedingly  fine,  and  we 
passed  the  day  amid  them,  and  beneath  the  shade  of  the 
great  elms ;  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  left  the  town 
and  drove  along  the  shore.  At  Clarens  we  stopped  to  look 
upon  the  view  thence,  said  to  be  the  most  exquisite  upon  the 
lake.  The  mountains  of  the  Rhone  valley,  the  rocks  of  La 
Meillerie,  and  Chillon,  are  all  comprised  in  the  panorama. 

"  'Twas  not  for  fiction  chose  Rousseau  this  spot, 
Peopling  it  with  affections ;  but  he  found 
It  was  the  scene  which  passion  must  allot 
To  the  mind's  purified  beings';  'twas  the  ground 
Where  early  love  his  Psyche's  zone  unbound, 
And  hallowed  it  with  loveliness ;  'tis  lone, 
And  wonderful,  and  deep,  and  hath  a  sound, 
And  sense,  and  sight  of  sweetness:  here  the  Rhone 
Hath  spread  himself  a  couch,  the  Alps  have  rear'd  a  throne." 

Beautiful  and  true  was  the  description  of  Byron,  and 
never  did  his  wonderful  power  appear  more  striking  to  us 
than  whei  we  gazed  upon  the  scene.     How  lovely  was  that 


184  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

evening  drive  along  the  vine-clad  slopes  of  Lake  Leman  !  The 
air  was  pure  and  fresh,  as  though  it  were  just  from  the  gates 
of  Paradise  ;  the  sunlight  falling  upon  the  high  mountain- 
tops,  cast  their  shadows  on  the  lake,  thus  mirroring  a  dark 
mountain-chain  beneath  the  waters.  Boats  with  Lateen  sails 
were  resting  idly,  while  the  dip  of  the  oar  and  the  rush  of 
the  waterfall  were  the  only  sounds  abroad. 

After  passing  Chillon,  we  came  to  the  "  Hotel  Byron," 
situated  high  up  the  cliffs.  In  the  garden,  which  came  down 
to  the  water's  edge,  were  groups  of  visitors  and  throngs  of 
laudiing  children. 

At  Villencuve  we  parted  with  the  lake  ;  a  feeling  of  deep 
regret  possessed  us,  as  we  looked  our  last  upon  that  gem  of 
the  Alps;  there  was  a  sweet  quietude,  a  balmy  feeling  steal- 
ing over  our  hearts,  as  we  wandered  amid  these  mountains^ 
perfectly  delightful,  and  we  would  fain  have  lingered,  but  our 
"  way  was  still  onward." 

Just  above  the  summit  of  the  distant  Alps  rose  up  "  the 
Comet  of  1853,"  with  its  long  train  of  dazzling  light ;  we 
gazed  upon  it  until  the  high  cliffs  hid  it  from  our  view.  We 
dashed  rapidly  along  the  valley,  crossing  the  river  several 
times, 

"  Journeying  upward  by  tlic  Khone, 
That  there  came  down  a  torrent  from  the  Alps." 

We  passed  the  bridge  of  Saint  Maurice,  which  is  a  bold 
arch,  spanning  the  stream.  It  was  sustained  on  the  one  side 
by  the  Dent  de  Morcles  and  on  the  other  by  the  Dent  de 
Midi.  Beneath  it  the  Bhone,  imprisoned  by  the  mighty 
rocks,  rushed  and  foamed  along  like  the  rapids  of  Niagara. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  here  the  Legion  of  Thebans,  com- 
manded by  St.  Maurice,  suffered  martyrdom,  by  the  order  of 
Maximian,  in  A.  D.  o02,  in  consequence  of  their  refusal  to 


THE   CRETINS THE   GOITRES BRIEG.  185 

abandon  the  religion  of  Christ.  In  the  fourth  century  the 
first  Abbey  was  founded  amid  the  Alps,  and  named  St.  Mau- 
rice, in  remembrance  of  the  martyr. 

We  passed  near  the  "  Waterfall  of  the  Sallenche,"  which 
revealed  its  presence  by  clouds  of  snowy  spray ;  then  Bex, 
remarkable  for  its  salt  wells,  and  Martigny^  where  the  road 
from  the  great  St.  Bernard,  and  also  that  from  Chamouni, 
intersect  the  Simplon.  The  ruins  of  La  Batre,  once  a  tower 
of  strength  belonging  to  the  Archbishops  of  Sion,  were 
clearly  visible  in  the  starlight. 

When  the  day  dawned  and  we  saw  the  inhabitants  passing 
along  to  their  work,  we  were  struck  with  their  miserable  and 
squalid  appearance ;  so  different  from  the  neat  and  tidy  look  of 
the  people  of  the  Fays  de  Vaud.  We  soon  saw  many  persons 
with  goitres,  and  also  the  cretins.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine 
any  thing  more  horrible  or  more  disgusting  than  these  goitres. 
We  remarked  them  not  only  upon  the  necks  of  men  and  of 
women,  but  also  upon  small  children.  The  cretins  are  idiots 
who  go  wandering  along  the  wayside,  pale  and  skeleton-like. 
We  inquired  of  the  peasants  every  where  we  stopped  what 
was  the  cause  of  the  goitres.  Some  told  me  it  was  caused 
by  the  damp  atmosphere  of  the  Khone  valley.  Some  said  it 
was  induced  by  drinking  the  water  from  the  glaciers,  and 
others  attributed  the  malady  to  the  uncleanliness  of  the  peo- 
ple. From  whatever  cause  it  arises,  there  can  be  no  sight 
more  pitiable  and  sad. 

At  Brieg  we  breakfasted.  The  little  village  contained  a 
Jesuit  college  with  gilded  towers,  and  the  chateau  of  the 
Baron  Stock  Alper,  decorated  in  the  same  manner.  There 
was  also  a  Convent  of  the  Ursulines.  We  saw  many  priests 
along  the  road,  and  heard  German  spoken,  which  is  the  lan- 
guage of  the  whole  canton  of  the  Vallais. 


CHAPTEK    XXII. 

The  road  of  the  Simplon  is  in  truth  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  works  of  this  century.  Napoleon  determined  it 
should  be  made  immediately  after  he  had  crossed  the  great 
St.  Bernard.  When  the  battle  of  Marengo  was  "  fought  and 
won,"  he  commanded  his  engineers  to  make  a  survey  of  the 
route.  Those  of  Ceard  were  deemed  the  best,  and  therefore 
chosen.  On  the  Italian  side  it  was  commenced  in  1800,  and 
on  the  Swiss  in  1801.  It  required  the  labor  of  six  years  to 
complete  it,  as  the  road  passed  over  more  than  six  hundred 
bridges,  great  and  small.  Napoleon  was  exceedingly  inter- 
ested in  the  progress  of  the  work.  Whenever  information 
was  brought  him  concerning  it,  he  would  always  ask,  "  Le 
canon — quand  pourraii-il  passer  au  Simplon  ?  "  showing 
his  great  object  was  the  more  easy  transportation  of  his 
powerful  artillery. 

At  Brieg  the  road  left  the  "  arrowy  Rhone,"  and  we 
drove  rapidly  up  the  Simplon.  So  gradual  was  the  ascent, 
we  were  scarcely  conscious  of  the  height  we  had  attained, 
save  by  the  clearer  view  of  the  distant  valleys.  The  weather 
was  delightful ;  not  in  the  slightest  degree  cold,  but  gentle 
and  soft  as  the  sweetest  days  of  our  spring. 

When  we  lost  sight  of  the  Rhone  valley  the  road 
turned  away  from  the  Olytzhorny  which  rose  up  like  a  grand 


VIEW   FROM   THE   FIRST   POST-HOUSE.  187 

rampart,  and  passed  by  the  Briethorn  into  the  gorge  of  the 
Saltine,  where  we  crossed  a  fierce  torrent  upon  a  covered 
bridge.  Far,  far  above  ns  we  saw  the  clear,  pale  blue  fields 
of  ice,  and  were  told  our  road  upward  would  pass  near  them. 

The  view  from  the  first  post-house  was  admirable.  We 
seemed  as  though  raised  up  in  a  balloon,  with  the  valleys  of 
Brieg  and  Tourtemagne  spread  out  beneath  us.  After 
changing  horses  we  crossed  the  plain  of  Gauther  and  another 
furious  torrent,  upon  the  Pont  de  Oauther.  The  plain  is 
very  dangerous  in  consequence  of  the  avalanches  every  winter. 

Now,  we  perceived  the  Herculean  labor  of  making  the 
road.  There  were  miles  of  solid  masonry  and  hundreds  of 
feet  of  galleries  formed  partly  of  the  living  rock  and  partly 
of  huge  pillars  of  stone  and  mortar.  The  turnings  and  wind- 
ings of  the  way  were  really  incredible.  One  valley  we  passed 
entirely  around  three  times  upon  ledges  or  terraces,  built  one 
above  the  other,  as  though  they  belonged  to  some  giant  hang- 
ing garden.  When  we  gained  the  summit  we  could  trace  far 
below  us  the  narrow  track  like  a  white  seam  upon  the  moun- 
tain-side. Well  might  Sir  James  Mackintosh  say  of  this 
road  :  "  It  is  the  greatest  of  all  those  monuments  that  dazzle 
the  imagination  by  their  splendor,  and  are  subservient  to 
general  convenience." 

The  first  gallery  we  entered  was  that  of  Schalbet,  ninety- 
five  feet  long,  and  emerging  from  it  we  beheld  all  the  glory 
of  the  Bernese  Alps.  These  were  the  peaks  of  the  Brie- 
thorn, the  Aletsch  Horner,  and  the  Viescher  Horner,  stand- 
ing in  bold  relief  against  the  clear  sky.  Their  summits  were 
covered  with  snow,  while  between  them  appeared  the  glaciers 
of  Aletsch,  the  most  extensive  of  the  Alps.  The  scene  was 
indescribably  grand. 

The  glacier  of  the  jK'ctZfit'asser  was -just  above  us,  not 
more  than  a  hundred  yards  away.     The  color  of  the  ice  was  of 


188  SOUVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

the  deepest  blue,  with  long  streaks  of  white  through  it,  caused 
by  the  melting  of  the  mass.  Several  torrents  rushed  from  be- 
neath it,  and  fell  over  the  cliffs  in  sheets  of  snow-like  foam  ; 
our  eyes  followed  them  until  they  were  lost  in  the  dim  depths, 
thousands  and  thousands  of  feet  below.  Far  above,  where 
no  human  feet  have  trod,  were  the  wild  goats  (the  chamois  of 
the  Alps),  standing  in  perfect  security  upon  the  topmost  peak 
of  the  Simplon,  which  was  uncovered,  although  around  and 
below  it  the  "  everlasting  snows  "  lay  pure  and  deep. 

Along  this  portion  of  the  road  the  avalanches  are  fre- 
quent ;  also  the  tourmentes  (sudden  storms).  Hence  the  con- 
struction of  many  galleries  as  places  of  protection.  They  are 
made  in  such  a  manner  that  the  avalanches  slide  over  them 
and  fall  into  the  valleys  below.  After  passing  through  one  of 
these  long-arched  tunnels,  termed  the  ''glacier  galleries," 
with  great  apertures  like  windows,  we  found  ourselves  beneath 
a  waterfall,  which  came  roaring  from  the  glaciers  above,  and 
rushed  over  the  rocks,  forming  the  roof  of  our  gallery ;  thus 
we  beheld  the  fearful  sight,  while  we  felt  ourselves  in  safety. 

From  gallery  to  gallery  we  drove  on  until  we  came  out 
upon  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  Then  for  the  first  time  a 
sensation  of  fear  thrilled  our  hearts,  or  rather  of  awe.  Before 
us  were  the  Bernese  Alps  in  their  lonely  grandeur.  Far 
below  into  caverns  and  chasms  of  untold  depth  fell  the  glacier 
torrents,  echoing  from  peak  to  peak  the  music  of  the  water- 
fall. Far  above  all,  arose  the  summit  of  the  Simplon  in 
white  and  chilly  grandeur.  It  was  entirely  covered  with 
snow,  save  a  few  pulpit-.shaped  rocks.  Around  it  was  a 
crown  of  clouds,  touched  by  the  sunbeams  and  wrought  into 
fantastic  banks  of  rose-hue,  exquisitely  beautiful  to  behold. 
Neither  shrub,  tree,  nor  flower  formed  a  portion  of  the  majestic 
spectacle,  where  "  Alps  rose  over  Alps,"  while  the  brilliant 
snow  of  ages,  the  eternal  glaciers,  and  the  mighty   rocks 


DOGS  OF  GREAT  ST.  BERNAKD.  189 

reigned  supreme.  Never  did  I  feel  my  soul  more  perfectly 
raised  from  "  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God  !  "  Who  could  be 
a  skeptic  in  a  scene  like  this,  where  the  hand  of  the  "  Great 
Architect ''  is  so  manifest  in  the  glories  of  his  creation.  A 
feeling  of  profound  gratitude  filled  my  bosom  that  my  eyes 
had  dwelt  upon  this  glorious  mountain-world,  and  that  within 
my  memory  it  would  be  a  joy  forever. 

Higher  and  higher  we  went,  until  we  perceived  near  us  the 
little  cross  marking  the  culminating  point  of  the  road,  six 
thousand  five  hundred  and  seventy-eight  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea.  Although  the  elevation  was  so  great,  the  atmosphere 
was  pleasantly  warm,  and  the  air  so  pure  and  clear,  objects 
exceedingly  distant  seemed  incredibly  near.  TVe  left  the 
diligence  and  climbed  a  rocky  eminence,  where  we  drank  a 
bumper  of  fieurie  to  "  those  we  love  best  "  in  our  far-away 
home,  turning  our  faces  westward  towards  our  hearts'  Mecca^ 
as  we  wafted  them  blessings  fond  and  true. 

Across  a  gray,  barren  plain,  we  drove  to  a  large  hospice, 
commenced  by  the  command  of  Napoleon,  and  since  completed. 
It  is  occupied  by  friars  of  the  Augustine  order.  They  give 
shelter  to  travellers  during  periods  of  stormy  weather.  We 
saw  there  the  dogs  of  the  great  St.  Bernard ;  they  are  almost 
as  large  as  a  well-grown  calf,  and  are  covered  with  thick, 
shaggy  hair.  Father  Barras  came  out  to  speak  with  us.  He 
is  noted  for  his  kindness  to  strangers,  and  has  a  most  benevo- 
lent face. 

Along  the  Simplon  road  there  are  six  houses  of  refuge  for 
"  the  traveller  worn  and  weary."  They  are  most  valuable 
asylums,  for  the  tempests  often  arise  so  suddenly,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  escape  certain  destruction  were  not  these  places 
of  protection  wisely  placed  within  the  reach  of  the  wayfarer. 
Then  the  avalanches  occur  when  the  "  heavens  are  brightest." 
We  heard  the  crushing  sound  of  one,  but  it  was  happily  far 


190  SOUVENIES   QF   TRAVEL. 

away  from  us  in  a  distant  valley.  The  houses  of  refuge  are 
built  with  massive  walls  and  furnished  with  an  abundance  of 
fire-wood.  Some  few  are  occupied  by  miserable-looking  peas- 
ants, who  will  wait  upon  a  stranger  for  a  good  compensation. 
Others  are  left  open,  and  all  enter  who  wish,  free  and  with- 
out charge. 

Often  in  letters  to  dear  Mamma,  have  I  told  her  of  the 
deliglit  we  have  experienced  in  meeting  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances in  all  our  wanderings.  But  we  did  not  imagine,  amid 
the  glaciers  and  the  eternal  snows,  almost  in  the  skies  (for 
some  clouds  were  below  us),  that  we  should  still  find  one. 
During  all  the  day  we  had  remarked  a  handsome  man,  with 
a  noble,  distinguished  air,  walking  at  times  along  the  moun- 
tain-road. Upon  inquiry  we  discovered  he  was  the  occu- 
pant of  the  carriage  following  our  diligence.  When  we  stop- 
ped at  the  hospice  he  came  up  to  us,  and  presented  a  bouquet 
of  Alpine  flowers  which  he  had  gathered  during  the  morning. 
There  was  a  certain  grace  and  gallant  manner  which  at  once 
induced  me  to  believe  he  was  an  American ;  therefore  to  be 
assured  of  my  supposition,  I  made  some  remark  concerning 
"  our  country,"  and  found  we  had  known  each  other  well  in 
"  days  long  past;"  and  thus  on  the  summit  of  the  Simplon  I 
met  a  friend.  It  was  truly  a  bright  and  sparkling  incident 
in  "  the  pass  of  the  Simplon."  Mr.  Ogden  was  with  a 
party  of  intelligent  gentlemen  from  the  United  States,  who 
were  journeying  our  way,  and  we  travelled  together  several 
days. 

At  Simplon  (Semplone  in  Italian)  we  dined,  and  then 
proceeded  on  to  the  Gallery  of  Algahy,  the  first  on  the  Ital- 
ian side  of  the  mountain.  It  is  along  the  Doveria,  near 
where  it  rushes  into  the  Gorge  of  Gondo.  Words  cannot 
even  give  a  shadow  of  the  wild  and  savage  grandeur  of  this 
Alpine  gorge.     Goethe,  in  his  Faust,  has  pictured  just  such 


THE   FRASCINNONE   WATERFALL.  191 

scenes  of  mysterious  gloom.  The  mountains  appeared  to 
have  been  rent  asunder  by  some  fierce  convulsion  of  nature, 
leaving  a  pass-way  for  the  Doveria,  which  rushes  through, 
sometimes  a  roaring  river,  then  falling,  a  grand  cataract,  into 
the  dark  chasm  below.  The  road  is  upon  a  terrace  pf  solid 
masonry,  or  else  upon  a  ledge  cut  in  the  rock,  directly  along 
the  verge  of  the  torrent.  Far  above,  on  the  top  of  the  cliff, 
was  a  fringe  of  fir-trees  ;  all  below  them  was  the  barren  gray 
rock,  in  places  perfectly  white,  from  the  sheets  of  snowy 
foam,  caused  by  the  myriads  of  waterfalls  which  came  dash- 
ing down  their  sides,  and  were  lost  in  mists  ere  they  reached 
the  Doveria. 

We  crossed  the  rushing  river  upon  the  Ponte  Alto,  and 
came  to  a  projection  of  the  mountain  it  seemed  utterly  im- 
possible to  pass.  But  the  skilful  engineers  had  accomplished 
wonders ;  instead  of  going  round  it,  we  suddenly  dived  into 
the  Gallery  of  Gondo,  six  hundred  feet  long.  It  appeared 
interminable,  although  there  were  great  windows  to  give 
light.  At  last  the  guard  called  out  we  were  nearly  through. 
Infiuite  was  our  amazement  and  terror  when  the  diligence 
emerged  from  the  gallery,  and  passed  under  the  great  water- 
fall of  the  Frascinnone  !  Our  hearts  almost  ceased  to  beat, 
as  the  foam  of  the  roaring,  wildly- rushing  torrent  dashed  into 
our  faces,  and  a  sound  like  that  of  the  crashing  avalanche  as- 
sailed our  ears.  I  suppose  that  we  screamed ;  but  the  hu- 
man voice  was  unheard  in  the  fierce  tumult  of  waters.  We 
were  only  two  minutes  beneath  the  cataract,  they  told  us ; 
but  fear  so  painfully  magnified  the  time,  it  really  seemed  an 
hour.  The  cascade,  descending  from  the  highest  point  of 
the  rocky  battlement  above,  leaves  a  space  between  the  stream 
and  the  cliff,  along  which  the  workmen  have  cut  a  kind  of 
huge  shelf  where  the  road  passes.  Although  apparently  so 
dangerous,  we  were  assured  it  was  entirely  safe.     When  be- 


192  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

yond  the  reach  of  the  spray,  we  insisted  upon  stopping,  that 
we  might  look  upon  the  Frascinnone  waterfall.  It  was  a 
scene  of  matchless  grandeur  !  The  immense  mountains  rose 
up  as  high  as  the  Hawk's  Nest  of  the  Kanawha  River.  A 
little  strip  of  sky  appeared  to  roof  over  the  great  abyss, 
where  the  Doveria  torrents  and  ourselves  were  sole  occu- 
pants. 

The  road  continued  to  wind  around  and  around  along  the 
terrace  built  up  to  support  it,  or  through  great  caverns 
pierced  in  the  living  rock.  On  all  sides  there  was  a  concert 
of  waterfalls,  of  every  size,  form,  and  dimension;  each  one 
had  its  peculiar  note  of  wild  melody,  as  it  rushed  down  the 
mountain,  and  mingled  with  the  turbulent  river  far  in  the 
gulf  below. 

We  passed  Gunz  (or  Gondo),  the  last  village  of  the  Val- 
lais  canton,  and  then  came  to  Isella,  the  first  Italian  or 
rather  Austrian  post,  situated  in  a  narrow  valley,  just  on  the 
edge  of  the  foaming  waters.  There  our  passports  and  lug- 
gage were  examined.  As  the  soldiers  went  very  leisurely  to 
work  to  accomplish  this,  the  deep  night  came  ere  it  was  com- 
pleted. Hence  we  were  compelled  to  leave  the  diligence, 
and  remain  at  the  neat  little  inn  of  Isella.  The  sound  of  the 
rushing  Doveria  lulled  us  to  sweet  slumbers,  and  we  could 
scarcely  credit  our  eyes  when  we  unclosed  them  at  the  call 
of  our  servant,  and  found  daylight  was  with  us  again.  We 
quickly  made  our  toilette,  and  were  soon  in  the  carriage 
which  we  hired  to  take  us  to  Domo  d^Ossolo. 

The  clear  morning  light  lit  up  with  glory  the  Val  Dove- 
dro,  which  we  now  entered.  In  a  few  miles  we  came  to  the 
traces  of  the  storm  of  1839,  which  quite  destroyed  this  por- 
tion of  the  road.  Immense  rocks,  as  large  as  feudal  castles, 
were  hurled  down  the  mountain-side,  crushing  the  bridges, 


FIKST   VIEW   OF   ITALY.  193 

and  effacing  every  vestige  of  a  road.  The  Sardinian  govern- 
ment are  slowly  rebuilding  it.  We  still  continued  on  the 
banks  of  the  Doveria  torrent,  crossing  it  at  Crevola  on  a 
wooden  bridge,  where  it  joined  the  Toce.  From  the  centre 
of  that  bridge  we  first  looked  upon  beautiful  Italy. 
Vol.  I.— 9 


CHAPTEK    XXIII. 

We  were  now  in  the  Val  d'Ossolo,  and  all  was  changed. 
The  trees  were  greenly  luxuriant,  and  all  of  chestnut.  Vil- 
lages arose  in  all  directions,  with  the  houses  painted  white, 
and  the  churches  likewise,  each  one  having  a  campanelle  (bel- 
fry) rising  by  its  side,  like  an  ancient  tower,  thus  adding  to 
the  picturesqueness  of  the  scene.  The  Alps,  in  the  distance, 
were  like  a  frowning  bulwark,  to  shut  out  the  rude  north, 
while,  towards  the  south,  they  softened  in  outline,  and  were 
rich  in  the  varied  beauty  of  field,  village,  and  vinejard. 

The  postiglione,  walking  by  the  side  of  the  carriage, 
amused  me  greatly.  When  0.  and  E  left  it  to  walk,  I  asked 
him  to  point  out  the  remains  of  a  Roman  bridge,  across  which 
the  French  passed  as  they  marched  to  the  field  of  Marengo. 
When  we  reached  it,  he  showed  me  the  ruins,  and  spoke  with 
enthusiasm  of  "  the  great  General."  I  remarked  to  him, 
"  So  you  admire  Napoleon  !  "  He  drew  himself  up  and  re- 
plied, "  Signora,  all  great  minds  appreciated  him."  Then 
he  expatiated  upon  the  benefits  conferred  on  Italy  by  Napo- 
leon. Thus  I  found  him  always  the  idol,  not  only  with  the 
great,  but  among  the  lowliest. 

We  had  not  passed  many  miles  into  the  Val  d^OssolOj 


BEGGARY   A   PROFESSION.  195 

before  the  beggars  appeared ;  and,  upon  inquiring  why  they 
were  so  num.erous,  our  postiglione  answered  in  his  quaint 
language,  mingled  patois  and  Italian,  "  Beggary  is  a  profes- 
sion, Signora.  Every  one  should  have  a  profession.  Some 
take  that  of  priest,  some  of  robber,  and  many  of  beggar." 

Upon  the  last  bridge  of  the  route,  we  turned  to  take  a 
parting  look  upon  the  distant  gorge  of  Gondo,  and  the  snow- 
capped Alps,  with  their  azure  glaciers.  Although  glorious 
and  classic  Italy  lay  before  us,  a  regret  stole  over  our  hearts 
to  leave 

"  The  Alps, 
The  palaces  of  nature,  whose  vast  walls 
Have  pinnacled  in  clouds  their  snowy  scalps, 
And  throned  eternity  in  icy  halls 
Of  cold  sublimity,  where  forms  and  falls 
The  avalanche — the  thunderbolt  of  snow  !  " 

There  is  a  specialiU  (if  I  may  thus  apply  a  term  of  com- 
merce to  a  description  of  nature)  which  is  enchanting.  Every 
mountain  seems  to  possess  a  special  beauty,  and  is  in  itself  a 
picture,  apart  from*  the  grand  surroundings  of  foaming  cata- 
racts, of  snow-capped  peaks,  of  deep-blue  glaciers,  and  crash- 
ing avalanches.    "  Whoso  first  beholds  the  Alps,"  said  Rogers, 

"  instantly  receives  into  his  soul 
A  sense,  a  feeling  that  he  loses  not, 
A  something  that  informs  him  'tis  a  moment 
Whence  he  may  date  henceforward  and  for  ever." 

Swiftly  we  passed  along  down  a  valley  filled  with  grape- 
vines, not  in  trim  vineyards,  but  trained  from  tree  to  tree, 
waving  gracefully  in  the  breeze,  then  through  fields  of  ripe 
grain  and  green  meadows,  to  Domo  d^Ossolo,  a  real  Italian 
town,  with  long  colonnades  and  parti-colored  awniugs  before 
the  doors.     There  were  multitudes  of  lazzaroni  (idle  fel- 


196  SODVENIES    OP    TKAVEL. 

lows),  with  amazing  Jjriglit  eyes  and  mahogany-hued  legs ; 
there  were  black-haired  women,  with  veils  over  their  heads, 
and  very  old  women,  with  dingy  shawls  instead.  No  one  ap- 
peared occupied ;  every  body  was  idle,  talking  and  gesticu- 
lating. We  drew  up  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a  large,  oriental- 
looking  building,  with  marble  floors  and  handsome  suites  of 
apartments,  with  fantastically  curtained  beds. 

We  only  tarried  in  Domo  d'Ossolo  until  we  could  obtain 
a  char  a  banc,  with  post-horses,  and  then  went  on  with  Mr. 
Ogden  and  Mr.  Rockwell  to  Lago  di  Maggiore.  Leaving 
the  highway,  we  struck  into  a  country  road,  passing  through 
a  lovely  plain,  varied  by  the  frequent  appearance  of  old  Ro- 
man towers,  built  upon  the  mountain-tops  one  thousand  years 
ago.  The  villages  are  beautiful  at  a  distance,  but  near  them 
the  charm  departs;  they  are  frightfully  dirty,  with  narrow 
streets,  and  squalid,  unhealthy-looking  inhabitants.  The 
young  girls  are  really  pretty ;  but  the  old  women  are  hid- 
eously ugly.  The  moment  the  carriage  stopped  to  change 
horses,  it  was  surrounded  by  beggars ;  some  with  enormous 
goitres;  some  were  cretins  (idiots);  many  without  arms,  or 
legs,  or  eyes,  or  noses.  They  came  down  upon  us  like  a  cloud 
of  locusts.  If  one  received  charity,  twenty  took  his  place  at 
once;  and  such  entreaties,  such  plaintive  cries  for  '•' cari- 
td  /  "  as  would  have  drawn  money  from  even  the  miser's 
purse.  When  we  had  given  away  all  our  money,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  cover  my  face  with  my  hands  to  escape  the  sight 
of  their  misery ;  but  I  could  not  close  my  ears  to  their 
mournful  voices.  At  one  of  the  villages  there  was  a  child 
without  either  hands  or  feet.  They  seemed  to  have  been 
cut  off  just  at  the  wrists  and  the  ankles.  Yet,  notwithstand- 
ing his  lack  of  both,  he  moved  rapidly  over  the  ground,  and 
was  among  the  first  tp  gather  as  usual  around  the  carriage. 
Although  we  had  vowed  to  give  away  no  more  money  to  the 


THE  wo:men  and  hokses.  19Y 

beggars,  we  could  not  resist  the  touching  appeal  of  those 
Landless  arms  held  up  to  us. 

Being  delayed  an  hour,  we  got  out  to  visit  an  old  castle 
on  the  hill-side,  and,  in  returning  from  it,  met  again  our  poor 
little  beggar.  We  asked  one  of  the  peasant  women  how  he 
lost  both  feet  and  hands,  and  she  replied,  "  They  fell  off  in  a 
fever."  But  several  of  our  party  declared  they  had  been 
cut  off  by  his  cruel  parents,  for  the  purpose  of  making  him  a 
"  good 'beggar."  When  we  translated  this  to  her,  she  laughed 
and  said  it  might  be  so ;  for  his  lack  of  hands  and  feet 
was  quite  2i  foHune  to  his  parents,  as  foresiieri  (strangers) 
willingly  gave  to  him  when  they  refused  all  others,  as  we 
had  done. 

Every  where  we  found  the  grapes  suffering  from  the  Tna- 
latia,  a  kind  of  mould  which  covers  the  bunches  and  dries 
them  up.  For  three  years  the  vintage  has  failed  from  this 
cause,  thus  impoverishing  still  more  the  miserable  inhabit- 
ants, who  subsist  entirely  upon  a  paste  made  of  the  Turkish 
grain  (a  species  of  our  Indian  corn).  They  never  taste  meat 
more  than  two  or  three  times  in  the  year. 

The  roads  were  excellent ;  still  we  went  slowly  along, 
our  post-horses  were  such  miserable,  over-worked  creatures. 
The  vetturino  was  constantly  whipping  them,  but  could  not 
hasten  their  speed.  At  length  I  implored  him  to  be  less 
cruel.  He  answered  my  entreaties  by  saying,  "  Cruel  in- 
deed !  the  horses  are  used  to  it ;  they  expect  it.  I  wish 
women  never  travelled  ;  they  are  too  tender-hearted.  I  de- 
spise to  drive  a  vettura  with  a  woman  in  it !  "  We  knew 
not  which  were  most  objects  of  compassion — the  women  re- 
turning from  the  fields  with  great  mountains  of  hay  piled  up 
on  their  shoulders,  in  a  frame-work  of  wood  strapped  across 
their  backs,  or  the  poor  horses,  with  their  cruel  drivers.  In 
fact,  the  women  and  horses  have  a  sorry  life  of  it.     However, 


198  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

in  nearly  all  tlie  countries  of  Europe  the  labor  falls  upon  the 
peasant  women ;  and  therefore  they  have  little  the  look  of 
our  females.  In  early  youth  they  have  some  charms ;  but 
suflFering  and  poverty  soon  efface  them,  and  they  become 
regular  witches  of  Macbeth,  worthy  to  have  stood  as  models 
to  Shakspeare. 

We  crossed  the  Toce  several  times  in  the  most  ancient- 
looking  ferry-boats,  with  ferrymen  in  sandals  of  wood  fastened 
across  the  foot.  We  stopped  at  one  of  the  peasants'  Jiouses 
to  purchase  some  fruit;  and,  while  they  were  gathering  it, 
we  saw  an  Italian  infant,  about  two  months  old,  wrapped  up 
in  roll  after  roll  of  cloth,  precisely  like  an  Egyptian  mummy. 
The  arms  were  fr^e;  but  just  below  them  began  a  wide 
bandage  of  some  coarse  material,  which  was  wound  around 
and  around  the  poor  little  baby,  until  it  was  as  tight  as  a 
well-pressed  bale  of  Mobile  cotton.  When  the  mother  went 
to  work  in  the  field,  she  could  fasten  a  hook  into  the  cloth, 
and  hang  the  child  up  to  the  limb  of  a  tree  to  keep  it  out  of 
harm,  or  she  might  throw  it  carelessly  over  her  shoulder,  as 
though  it  were  a  stick  of  wood.  When  I  inquired  of  the 
mother  why  she  pursued  such  a  frightful  custom,  she  appeared 
amazed,  and  answered  me  quite  in  Yankee  fashion,  by  ex- 
claiming,  "  You  certainly  don't  live  in  a  country  where  babies 
are  so  neglected  as  to  be  without  wrapping-clothes  the  first 
six  months  ? "  Thus  to  the  list  of  the  wretched  and  ill- 
treated  we  added  the  babies,  regular  martyrs  to  the  "  cus- 
toms of  the  country." 

When  we  arrived  at  the  next  post-house,  we  reported  our 
driver  for  cruelty,  and  received  the  promise  that  he  should 
be  instantly  dismissed.  With  a  new  veiturino,  in  fanci- 
ful costume,  and  spirited  horses,  we  soon  came  to  Lago  di 
Maggiore,  and  drove  rapidly  on  to  the  town  of  Baveuo. 
Leaving  Octavia  and   R.  to  order  the  dinner  at  the  inn,  I 


MAGGIOKK VIEW   FROM   THE   SHORE.  199 

ran  down  to  the  shore,  to  enjoy  aloiie  the  first  impression  of 
the  lovely  scene.    - 

Ma<rgiore  and  Como  !  To  look  upon  them  had  been  the 
pet  dream  of  long  years,  and  often  had  imagination  painted 
their  pictures  upon  my  brain.  Now  Maggiore  was  before 
me,  quite  as  beautiful  as  the  vision  of  my  fancy.  From  the 
shores  of  the  emerald-hued  lake  the  Alps  arose  on  every 
side,  forming  a  noble  amphitheatre  of  mountains,  many  with 
"  diadems  of  snow  "  around  their  summits,  and  others  covered 
with  the  richest  verdure.  On  the  waters,  like  gaily  deco- 
rated barks,  seemed  to  float  the  Borromean  Islands  of  Isola 
Bella  and  Isola  3Iadre,  gorgeous  with  the  luxuriant  foliage 
and  flowers  of  tropical  plants.  I  was  not  long  left  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  exquisite  view,  ere  several  boatmen 
gathered  around,  to  offer  to  "  row  me  over  the  water,"  and 
ciceroni  to  show  me  wondrous  "old  temples,  once  dedicated 
by  the  Romans  to  the  worship  of  the  gods.  Resolving  to 
accept  the  services  of  the  latter,  away  I  went,  with  a  train 
of  beggars  after  me,  to  the  temple  converted  one  thousand 
years  ago  into  a  church.  It  was  really  a  curious  edifice,  with 
some  ancient  pictures,  founded  upon  strange,  wild  legends. 
The  priest  belonging  to  the  chapel  kindly  explained  them  to 
me,  and  I  was  so  absorbed  in  his  description  that  the  neces- 
sity of  returning  to  the  inn  quite  passed  from  my  mind. 
Suddenly  I  heard  my  name  called  out  in  a  loud  tone,  and 
found  our  party  had  all  come  out  in  pursuit  of  me ;  not  find- 
ing me  on  the  lake-shore,  they  rushed  in  all  directions  to 
seek  me,  supposing  I  had  lost  my  way. 

Immediately  after  dinner  we  hired  a  small  boat,  a  hacio- 
la,  and  rowed  over  to  Isola  Bella,  whereon  is  erected  the  pal- 
ace of  the  Count  Borromeo.  Broad  marble  steps  led  from 
the  water's  edge  to  a  wide  esplanade  or  court,  paved  with 
great  blocks  of  white  and  black  marble.     Thence  we  passed 


200  SOUVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

into  the  palace ;  the  rooms  were  spacious  and  well  furnished, 
the  walls  hung  with  fine  paintings  and  objects  of  verta,  scat- 
tered in  profusion  over  the  tables.  We  were  most  enchanted 
with  the  grottoes  beneath  the  palace  saloons.  They  are  about 
three  feet  above  the  lake,  and  consist  of  numerous  arched 
rooms;  the  ceiling,  the  floors,  the  pillars,  and  all  the  di- 
visions of  the  apartments,  are  formed  of  shells  and  pebbles 
from  Maggiore,  and  also  with  sea-shells  and  branches  of  coral. 
The  arrangement  is  extremely  tasteful :  first,  it  seemed  that 
a  paste  or  mortar  had  been  laid  down,  and  while  it  was  moist 
and  soft  the  shells  were  imbedded  within  it,  thus  forming  a 
singular  and  varied  mosaic.  In  all  the  grottoes  were  statues 
by  an  Italian  sculptor,  Monti,  each  statue  giving  its  name  to 
the  room  containing  it ;  thus,  there  was  the  Grotto  of  Venus, 
the  Grotto  of  Diana,  the  Grotto  of  Psyche,  and  the  Grotto 
of  Hebe.  In  the  most  elegant  of  these  apartments  they  told 
us  Napoleon  breakfasted  when  he  visited  the  palace.  In  one 
of  the  rooms  above  we  also  were  shown  into  the  chamber  in 
which  he  slept ;  the  room  has  never  been  occupied  since,  but 
remains  furnished  as  when  he  left  it. 

Ascending  again  into  the  palace,  we  passed  out  to  the 
gardens.  These  are  planted  upon  terraces,  built  up  from  the 
lake,  and  are  said  to  be  in  imitation  of  the  gardens  of  Baby- 
lon. From  the  very  edge  of  the  water  they  rise  up  in  a  pyr- 
amidal form,  one  above  the  other,  and  are  planted  with  orange 
and  lemon  trees,  and  with  myrtles  and  pomegranates ;  enor- 
mous cacti  spring  from  huge  rocks,  and  graceful  statues  peep 
from  the  wide-leaved  plants  of  the  "  Indian  Isles."  Trees, 
shrubs,  and  flowers,  from  all  the  lands  beyond  the  seas,  are 
gathered  there.  We  saw  the  Carolina  pine,  and  a  curious 
specimen  called  the  "  Tree  of  Louisiana."  The  gardener 
showed  us  what  he  said  was  one  of  their  rarest  shrubs,  the 
"  Feather-Tree  of  the  South  Sea  Islands."  When  we  approach- 


TERRACES ISOLA.   BELLA.  201 

ed  it  we  found  it  was  a  common  tree  witli  us,  tbe  "  Crape  Myr- 
tle." In  a  grove  of  cypress,  on  the  first  terrace,  we  saw  the 
Laurel  tree  upon  which  Napoleon  carved  the  word  Batfaglia 
before  the  battle  of  Marengo. 

An  ancestor  of  tbe  present  count  determined  in  1671  to 
convert  these  barren  rocks  belonging  to  him  into  gardens  as 
beautiful  as  those  of  Armida.  He  had  arches  built  up  from 
the  water's  verge,  and  then  terrace  after  terrace,  bringing  all 
the  earth  from  the  ^lainland.  The  labor  was  immense,  but 
the  result  enrapturing,  we  thought,  as  we  wandered  along 
the  winding  walks,  and  through  rich  groves  of  orange  trees, 
laden  with  fruit,  and  between  their  branches  caught  glimpses 
of  the  snow-covered  Alps  of  the  Tyrol,  whiie  we  breathed  an 
atmosphere  like  that  of  tropic  regions. 

Count  Borromeo  has  a  family  of  five  daughters  and  one 
son,  a  Cardinal  in  Rome.  It  is  only  during  six  months  in 
the  year  they  reside  in  the  lake-palace.  For  the  six  other 
months  the  charming  Isola  Bella  is  deserted.  The  gardener 
told  us  that,  in  winter,  pipes  filled  with  hot  water  were  con- 
veyed near  the  roots  of  the  trees  and  plants,  and  wrappings 
of  India  matting  placed  around  them.  We  saw  the  "  Beau- 
tiful Isle  "  truly  in  its  holiday  dress.  The  Isola  Madre  is 
higher  and  to  the  north  of  Isola  Bella,  thus  protecting  it 
from  the  rude  winds,  and  hence  its  name  of  "  Mother  Isl- 
and." It  is  covered  with  gardens  and  graperies.  There  is 
a  third  island,  called  Isola  dei  Pescatoriy  occupied  by  poor 
fishermen,  and  in  strong  contrast  with  the  other  fertile  and 
luxuriant  islands. 

The  Lago  di  3Iaggiore  is  fifty-two  miles  long  and  about 
eitrht  broad.     It  was  the  Lacus   Verhanus  of  the  Romans. 

o 

The  northern  portion  belongs  to   Switzerland,  the  eastern 
shore  to  Austria,  and  the  western  to   Sardinia.     However, 
Vol.  L— 9* 


202  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

the  Austrian  soldiers  have  control  every  where,  for  we  met 
them  in  all  directions  after  entering  Northern  Italy. 

We  crossed  the  lake  from  Isola  Madre  to  the  opposite 
shore,  where  we  landed  at  the  pretty  little  town  of  Laveno. 
in  Lombardy.  There  we  took  a  carriage  with  post-horses 
and  continued  our  journey  towards  the  Lake  of  Como.  The 
roads  were  excellent,  the  scenery  interesting,  while  Monte 
Rosa  loomed  up  majestically  in  the  dim  distance.  We  soon 
came  to  the  Lago  di  Varese,  along  whos^  picturesque  shores 
were  many  handsome  villas  of  the  Milanese  nobility.  Then 
on  through  the  town  of  Varese  to  Como,  where  we  arrived 
about  twelve  at  night,  after  the  gates  had  been  closed.  We 
were  compelled  to  wait  some  time  ere  they  were  opened. 
The  soldiers,  wkh  a  tall  officer  at  their  head,  came  around 
the  carriage  and  looked  eagerly  in  it,  but  finding  we  were  not 
a  revolutionary,  but  a  very  sleepy  and  weary,  set  of  travel- 
lers, they  permitted  us  to  enter  the  strong  walls  of  the  city. 
We  drove  rapidly  through  the  narrow  and  silent  streets,  to 
the  "  Hotel  del  Angelo,"  where  we  obtained  comfortable 
apartments.  After  some  hours  of  delightful  sleep  we  awak- 
ened to  the  charming  consciousness  that  we  were  at  last  near 
Como.  We  were  soon  attired,  standing  on  the  iron  balcony 
in  front  of  our  drawing-room,  which  was  directly  upon  the 
lake.  Most  lovely  was  the  view  before  us !  But  the  often 
repeated  call  of  R.  to  come  to  breakfast,  withdrew  us  from 
the  gallery  to  the  dining-room,  where  a  delicious  repast  was 
served  up,  consisting  of  the  Bergonia  (a  small  fish  of  the 
lake),  fine  figs,  peaches,  fresh  prunes,  and  luscious  grapes. 

Directly  after  breakfast  we  walked  to  the  quai,  in  front 
of  the  "  Hotel  of  the  Angel,"  where  we  hired  a  harciolina 
(a  wide  boat),  with  gaily  painted  awning,  cushioned  seats, 
and  a  small  stand,  upon  which  I  placed  the  note-book  as  I 
wrote  my  impressions  of  the  peerless  Lago  di  Como. 


COMMUNICATIVE   BOATMEN TAGLIONI.  203 

"  Sublime,  but  neither  bleak  nor  bare, 
Nor  misty,  are  the  mountains  there  ; 
Softly  sublime,  profusely  fair. 
Up  to  their  summits  clothed  in  green. 

We  are  gliding  slowly  along,  gazing  out  upon  the  beauti- 
ful lake — more  beautiful  far  than  all  the  descriptions  of 
tourists,  pictures  of  artists,  or  romances  of  poets.  Lofty 
mountains  rise  abruptly  from  the  margin  of  the  water,  while 
beyond  them  the  ^'  snowy  Alps "  seem  peeping  over,  as 
though  to  catch  one  glimpse  of  the  loveliness  below.  Splen- 
did villas,  with  hanging  gardens,  are  seen  in  all  directions, 
many  perched  as  it  were  upon  a  bold  cliff,  and  only  reached 
by  a  winding  stairway,  cut  in  the  solid  rock.  Others  (the 
most  elegant)  are  near  the  water,  where  the  mountain  has 
been  terraced  to  give  them  a  foundation.  Villages,  with 
picturesque-looking  churches,  are  scattered  around,  and  afar 
off  is  the  Bradello  Tower,  whose  structure  dates  from  the 
time  of  Barbarossa.  Its  height  is  immense,  and  within  its 
"  castellated  walls  "  many  a  victim  of  tyranny  has  perished, 
by  the  slow  agony  of  despair. 

Our  bronzed  boatmen  are  as  talkative  as  Creoles,  and 
appear  to  take  our  admiration  of  the  scene  as  a  personal  com- 
pliment, and  expatiate  with  great  vivacity  upon  the  '' glo- 
ries of  the  lake."  As  we  approached  a  lovely  villa,  they  ex- 
claimed, "Look!  Signora !  there  is  the  famous  Taglioni !" 
Then  lifting  their  oars,  they  suffered  the  harciolina  to  float 
slowly  by.  We  passed  within  a  few  yards  of  the  balcony,  in 
which  was  seated  the  world-renowned  danseuse,  so  near  we 
could  see  her  as  plainly  as  though  we  had  been  in  the  same 
room.  She  greatly  resembles  the  pictures  we  have  seen  of 
her,  but  it  is  the  resemblance  a  shadow  bears  to  the  form  which 
creates  it.  She  is  tall  and  thin,  with  a  sad  and  care-worn  ex- 
pression upon  her  pale  face.     She  was  in  deep  black,  with  a 


20tl:  SOUVENIKS    UF    TKAVEL. 

lace  mantilla  over  her  head.  Oh !  who  could  believe  her 
so  recently  the  graceful  and  lovely  embodiment  of  La  Syl- 
phide?  It  is  scarcely  seven  years  since  she  retired  from  the 
stage.  By  her  side  was  her  daughter,  a  brilliant  blonde, 
with  long,  fair  curls  clustering  about  her  neck.  She  is  the 
wife  of  the  Russian  Prince,  Trabaskoi,  whose  flag  now  floats 
over  Taglioni's  villa ;  although  near  by  he  is  building  a  su- 
perb mansion,  and  a  high  tower,  whence  he  will  give  the 
broad  banner  of  Russia  to  the  breeze.  Our  long  and  ear- 
nest gaze  did  not  seem  displeasing  to  them,  for  they  smiling- 
ly bowed,  as  we  rowe(t  awaj^  Passing  a  jutting  rock,  which 
would  shut  out  the  villa  from  our  sight,  we  turned  to  take  a 
parting  look.  Just  then,  a  young  girl  (probably  Taglioni's 
other  daughter)  came  down  the  steps  in  a  floating  white 
dress,  and  plunged  into  the  lake  for  a  mid-day  bath.  Her 
movements  in  the  clear  water  were  indescribably  beautiful ; 
no  sea-nyraph  could  have  glided  through  them  with  more 
perfect  ease.  After  swimming  to  and  fro  for  some  moments, 
she  bounded  up  the  marble  stairway  with  a  "  sylphide-l.ke  " 
grace,  the  long  dress  now  clinging  very  lovingly  about  her 
well-rounded  form. 

We  passed  the  villas  of  several  Italian  noblemen,  then 
came  to  the  villa  of  Pasta,  (the  friend  and  preceptress  of 
our  charming  Parodi.)  Only  think  of  two  such  celebrities — 
the  fairy  of  the  dance,  and  the  queen  of  song — side  by  side 
in  early  fame,  and  almost  next-door  neighbors  in  their  age  ! 
We  landed  to  visit  the  distinguished  Pasta,  but,  unhappily 
for  us,  she  was  at  Genoa,  with  her  only  daughter,  who  resides 
there.  Her  French  waiting-voman  showed  us  all  over  the 
house,  even  to  the  bed-chamber  of  the  cantatrice;  the  floor 
of  which  is  of  pure  marble,  inlaid  with  exquisite  mosaics, 
consisting  of  portions  of  all  the  most  precious  marbles  of 
Italy.     It  wa:H  the  work  of  a  young  artist,  who  adored  the 


tasta's  grounds  and  gardens.  205 

genius  of  Pasta,  and  was  indeed  the  "  labor  of  love,"  for  he 
was  not  willing  to  receive  any  compensation,  her  thanks  be- 
ing his  dearest  recompense.  In  a  handsomely  decorated  sa- 
loon there  was  a  magnificent  painting  of  Pasta,  as  Semir- 
amide;  and  in  another,  a  bust  of  her  as  Anna  Bolena. 
Pasta's  villa  is  the  most  lovely  spot  upon  the  lake.  Bulwer 
must  have  seen  it  ere  he  wrote  his  glowing  description,  for 
he  has  sketched  it  as  though  it  were  before  him,  and  he  a 
second  Claude  Lorraine.     It  is  truly 

"  Shut  out  by  Alpine  hills  from  the  rude  world, 
Near  a  clear  lake,  margined  by  fruits  of  gold 
And  whispering  myrtles." 

The  grounds  and  gardens  are  delightful,  with  arbors, 
grottoes,  winding  walks,  and  gushing  fountains.  A  few  feet 
above  the  lake  there  is  a  noble  avenue  of  trees,  whose  inter- 
lacing branches  form  a  Gothic  arch  of  living  green.  Beyond 
this  the  mountain  is  cut  into  terraces,  one  above  the  other, 
(almost  like  the  steps  of  some  giant  staircase.)  The  vegeta- 
tion has  all  the  luxuriance  of  tropical  climes,  and  the  long 
grape-vines  climb  from  tree  to  tree  up  the  mountain-side. 
Each  terrace  contains  groves  of  orange,  lemon,  and  myrtle 
trees,  or  labyrinths  of  flowering  shrubs,  and  rose-covered  ar- 
bors with  rustic  seats,  and  banks  of  moss.  Midway  up  was 
a  "glossy  bower  of  coolest  foliage,"  with  a  floor  of  curious 
pebbles.  There,  they  told  us,  Pasta  loved  to  sit  at  evening, 
looking  out  upon  the  blue  waters ;  the  view  thence  was  en- 
rapturing, and  the  lake  was  like  a  great  lapis  lazuli  in  an 
emerald  setting. 

We  lingered  several  hours  in  this  "  Paradise  of  Como," 
ere  we  could  tear  ourselves  away  and  pursue  our  voyage  up 
the  lake,  passing  the  villas  of  Visconti,  Ulmo,  and  the  "Villa 
d'Este,"  once  the  residence  of  Queen  Caroline,  of  England. 


SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

"Within  a  quiet  little  bay,  we  saw  "  Pliniana,"  named  thus 
from  Pliny's  description  of  a  singular  spring  amid  the 
grounds.  His  villa,  however,  was  supposed  to  be  upon  the 
site  of  the  "  Villa  Lenno,"  as  broken  columns  have  been 
found  there  beneath  the  water.  Near  the  little  village  of 
Bovisio,  Napoleon  lived  for  some  time,  in  the  •'  Villa  Mom- 
bello."  There  Josephine  joined  him,  soon  after  the  "Fall 
of  Venice,"  and  an  elegant  court,  not  only  of  French  nobles, 
but  of  Italians  likewise,  surrounded  him  during  the  *'  nego- 
tiations for  peace." 

We  rowed  by  garden,  village,  and  villa,  until  warned  by 
our  boatmen  to  return ;  that  is,  if  we  intended  reaching  the 
city  of  Como  by  night.  As  such  was  our  purpose,  we  re- 
luctantly saw  them  turn  the  harciolina  towards  it.  As  we 
passed  along,  the  shores  were  like  a  beautiful  panorama, 
gradually  unfolding  before  our  eyes,  and  at  last  came  the 
town  of  Como.  The  boat  is  nearing  the  quai,  and  I  must 
cease  writing. 

"Can  I  forget — ah  !  never,  such  a  scene — 
So  full  of  witchery." 


CHAPTER    XXIY. 

The  city  of  Como  lias  a  population  of  twenty  thousand  in- 
habitants. It  was  the  first  city,  in  ancient  times,  to  throw 
off  the  "  tyrant's  chains,"  and  become  a  Republic.  It  con- 
tinued thus  for  two  centuries,  when  it  was  conquered  by  the 
Visconti,  and  since  has  belonged  to  the  Masters  of  Milan. 
It  was  the  birthplace  of  Pliny  the  younger,  (and  many  say 
also  that  of  the  elder  Pliny) ;  the  people  are  very  proud  of 
being  his  compatriots  ;  and  in  wandering  through  the  town, 
we  fell  in  with  a  ragged  beggar,  who  insisted  upon  constitut- 
ing himself  our  guide,  and  said,  in  a  pompous  tone,  "  This  is 
indeed  the  land  of  great  men — ecco  Pliny  !  " 

The  Cathedral  is  a  fine  building,  all  of  marble.  In 
front  are  two  statues  of  the  Plinys,  raised  to  their  honor  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  Within  the  church  are  many  paintings 
by  Luino,  who  was  born  on  the  shores  of  the  lake.  Volta 
was  likewise  a  native  of  Como. 

The  lake,  called  by  the  Romans  Lacus  Larius^  is  about 
forty  miles  long.  No  place  upon  earth  has  ever  been  more 
frequently  the  theme  of  the  poet  and  the  painter,  and  none 
surpasses  its  wondrous  beauty.  It  is  related  that  Ugo  Fos- 
colo  often  remarked,  "  it  was  impossible  to  study  near  the 


208  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

lake,  the  landscape  around  was  too  inviting  to  permit  the 
companionship  of  books." 

From  Como  we  went  on  to  Ililan,  by  railway,  in  one 
hour  and  a  half.  "We  rode  in  an  omnibus  beyond  the  range 
of  mountains  which  shut  in  the  lake,  to  the  Plain  of  Lom- 
bardy,  where  the  Strada  Ferrata  (the  iron  street)  begins. 
The  country  through  which  we  passed  was  exceedingly  fer- 
tile, with  groves  of  olive  trees,  (small  ones,  however,)  mul- 
berry plantations,  myriads  of  peach  and  prune  trees,  and 
fields  of  wheat  and  Turkish  grain.  We  reached  Milan  early 
in  the  afternoon,  and  entered  it  through  the  Arco  dclla  Pace, 
(the  Arch  of  Peace.)  It  was  commenced  by  Napoleon,  and 
intended  by  him  to  be  called  "  The  Arch  of  the  Simplon," 
and  to  be  adorned  with  a  statue  of  Victory,  but  his  down- 
fall ended  all  these  purposes,  and  the  Austrians  finished  it, 
changing  all  the  has  reliefs,  and  substituting  others  emble- 
matic of  peace. 

Milan  is  called  by  the  Italians  Milan  the  Great.  In 
the  fourth  century  it  was  deemed  the  sixth  city  of  Italy. 
All  thQ  large  cities  have  some  favorite  designation,  illustra- 
tive of  their  peculiar  excellence.  Thus  Rome  is  "  The  Holy," 
Naples  "The  Happy,"  and  Venice  "The  Rich."  Milan 
was  founded  by  the  Gauls,  and  in  452  was  sacked  by  Attila, 
the  Hun.  In  1162  Frederick  the  First  entirely  destroyed 
it,  and  blotted  the  name  of  "  Milano  "  from  the  cities  of  the 
land.  Some  years  after,  it  was  determined  to  rebuild  it, 
which  was  done  by  the  combined  forces  of  all  the  towns  most 
active  in  its  destruction.  These  were  Brescia,  Cremona,  Ve- 
rona, and  Bergamo.  Eighty  years  after  its  reconstruction, 
began  the  rule  of  the  Viscontis  and  the  Sforzas.  Milan 
then  became  celebrated  throughout  all  Europe,  and  gave 
fashions  to  the  world  :  hence  conies  the  word  milliner^ 
"When  the  Sforza  family  passed  away,  Milan  fell  under  the 


CATHEDRAL    OF   MILAN.  209 

power  of  Charles  V.,  in  1535.  Thus  becoming  Austrian, 
then  French,  and  again  Austrian.  It  is  a  strongly  walled 
city,  and  a  splendid  one.  The  streets  are  nicely  paved,  the 
houses  large,  and  many  built  of  marble  from  the  quarries  near 
Domo  d'Ossolo. 

The  people  look  very  different  from  any  we  have  seen  of 
late ;  they  are  extremely  handsome.  The  men  are  of  fine 
stature,  dark,  and  striking  in  appearance,  with  long  mous- 
tache and  beards;  the  women  are  graceful  and  comely. 
Both  remind  us  of  the  Creoles  of  Louisiana  in  their  fine  phy- 
sique. They  seem  well  fed,  prosperous,  and  contented ; 
especially  have  the  friars  and  monks  in  tight  breeches  and 
silk  stockings,  a  happy,  jaunty  air.  There  were  multitudes 
of  Austrian  soldiers  in  every  street  through  which  we  passed. 
They  are  fair,  cold,  and  stern,  in  aspect ;  the  very  antipo- 
des of  the  Milanese. 

We  stopped  at  the  "  Hotel  de  Ville,"  (an  excellent 
hotel.)  From  the  window  we  beheld  the  Duomo,  or  cathe- 
dral, and  although  we  had  fancied  ourselves  too  weary  even 
to  go  down  to  dinner,  we  thought  no  more  of  fatigue  when 
the  graceful  spires  of  this  "  Pride  of  Milan  "  met  our  eyes. 
We  replaced  our  bonnets  and  hastened  away  to  obtain  a 
nearer  view  of  the  majestic  and  elaborately-wrought  exterior 
of  the  cathedral.  As  it  was  too  late  to  enter,  we  walked 
around  it,  in  the  dim  twilight,  and  then  on  through  the 
thronged  streets,  with  numerous  and  brilliantly-lighted  cales, 
where  crowds  were  drinking  coffee,  or  eating  ice  creams  and 
sherbets.  There  was  a  life  about  the  scene  peculiarly  pleas- 
ant, recalling  somewhat  the  busy  stream  of  Broadway,  and 
we  tarried  long  amid  the  merl-y  throng,  ere  we  sought  repose 
in  our  hotel. 

We  spent  some  charming  days  in  Milan,  and  were  con- 
stantly occupied  visiting  the  various  objects  of  interest.     We 


210  SOUVKNIRS    OF   TKAYEL. 

went  often  to  the  Duomo,  so  long  deemed  second  only  to  St. 
Peter's  in  grandeur.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  describe  it  , 
the  mind  is  bewildered  by  the  multitude  of  statues  which 
cluster  in  thousands  around,  on  the  summit  of  every  spire, 
and  along  the  cornices  of  the  great  edifice.  The  cathedral 
was  commenced  in  1386,  by  Giovanni  Visconti,  in  fulfilment 
of  a  vow,  and  is  not  even  yet  completed.  It  is  built  of  white 
marble  from-  the  quarries  near  Lago  di  Maggiore.  Time 
gives  it  a  rich  yellow  tint,  though  in  many  places  it  is  black 
with  age.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross  ;  the  columns 
supporting  the  roof  are  immense.  They  are  fifty  in  number, 
each  formed  by  an  assemblage  of  eight  shafts ;  the  height  of 
every  pillar  is  eighty  feet,  and  eighteen  at  the  base.  The 
capitals  of  these  are  finely  wrought.  The  ceiling  is  of  deli- 
cate fret-work,  and  the  windows  of  painted  glass,  a  portion 
of  each  being  the  work  of  Pellegrini,  exceedingly  brilliant. 
The  cannon  of  the  French  made  sad  havoc  with  these  win- 
dows. The  Austrian  Government  are  now  having  them  re- 
stored, but  the  imitation  of  the  original  is  very  poor.  There 
are  many  noble  monuments  and  fine  pictures  adorning  the 
aisles  and  altars. 

The  tomb  of  San  Carlo  Borromeo  is  beneath  the  church, 
in  a  richly  decorated  chapel  containing  along  the  walls  has 
reliefs^  in  silver  gilt,  of  all  the  great  events  of  his  life,  from 
his  birth  unto  his  reception  into  Paradise.  In  the  centre  of 
this  chapel  the  body  of  the  saint  reposes.  It  is  enclosed  in 
a  shrine  of  gold  and  silver,  and  is  attired  in  the  Pontifical 
robes.  Through  the  large  plates  of  rock  crystal,  the  face  is 
distinctly  seen — that  of  a  skeleton,  awakening  the  most 
painful  emotions,  and  in  striking  contrast  with  the  dazzling 
jewels  which  glitter  around  the  mouldering  form. 

San  Carlo  Borromeo  is  the  Patron  Saint  of  Milan ;  he 
was  born  in  1538,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  was  Arch- 


THE  "  LAST  SUPPER,   BY  LEONARDO  DA  VINCI.   211 

bishop  of  the  city;  he  was  a  great  and  good  man,  and  re- 
vered as  almost  the  equal  of  Deity.  We  saw  the  robes  in 
which  he  walked  through  the  city  during  the  plague,  so 
graphically  described  by  Manzoni,  in  I promessi  Sposi.  The 
chalice  from  which  he  drank  the  wine  upon  that  occasion, 
was  wrought  by  Benvenuto  Cellini,  and  is  exquisite.  A 
young  priest  showed  us  these  precious  memorials,  and  gave 
us  an  interesting  sketch  of  the  pure  and  holy  life  of  the 
Saint. 

In  the  rear  of  the  great  Altar  in  the  Sacristy,  were  the 
jewels  of  the  church.  There  was  a  silver  figure  (size  of  life) 
of  San  Carlo,  and  another  of  Saint  Ambrosio.  In  the  silver 
bust  of  St.  John,  we  were  told,  was  enclosed  the  real  head 
of  the  martyr  There  were  many  other  relics,  among  them 
a  piece  of  the  crucifix.  The  jewels  in  the  pastoral  stafi"s  of  the 
bishops,  were  really  magnificent.  The  front  pieces  for  the 
altar  were  all  woven  of  silver  and  gold  thread,  and  inlaid  with 
precious  stones.  The  wealth  in  this  one  room  is  estimated 
at  more  than  four  millions  of  pounds  sterling.  There  were 
salvers,  plates,  cups,  and  candlesticks,  of  the  pure  metals  of 
gold  and  silver,  richly  inlaid  with  rubies,  turquoise,  emeralds, 
topaz,  amethysts,  and  amber.  The  principal  altar  is  of 
walnut,  carved  by  Pellegrini ;  the  pavement  of  the  cathedral 
is  a  mosaic  of  black,  red,  and  white  marble.  We  visited 
many  other  churches,  but  they  failed  to  interest  us  after  the 
magnificence  of  the  Duomo. 

Near  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  we  saw  the  famous 
Cenacola,  or  "  Last  Supper  "  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  This 
picture  was  painted  upon  a  wall  by  the  great  artist  in  1493, 
and  has  attracted  more  attention,  and  has  had  more  written 
concerning  it,  than  any  other  in  Europe.  It  has  met  with 
sad  mischances,  and  time  and  ill-usage  have  left  their  impress ; 
although  many  of  the  figures  are  perfect,  and  the  head  of 


212  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Christ  still  glows  with  a  life-like  radiance.  Leonardo  da 
Vinci  occupied  sixteen  years  in  painting  it. 

La  Brera  is  a  large  building  devoted  to  the  fine  arts. 
It  has  many  good  fresco  paintings  by  Luino,  and  countless 
rooms  filled  with  pictures  and  statuary.  It  was  a  fete-day  in 
Milan,  and  prizes  for  the  best  modern  picture,  and  to  the 
best  singers  of  the  Conservatory  of  Music,  were  to  be  awarded 
in  one  of  the  large  saloons  of  La  Brera.  Thus  we  met 
thousands  and  thousands  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  lonor  cor- 

o 

ridors,  and  in  the  difi*erent  apartments.  Bands  of  music 
were  stationed  at  various  points,  and  all  was  animation. 

Among  the  ancient  paintings  was  one  of  "  St.  John  in 
the  Wilderness,"  by  Titian,  exceedingly  good,  and  one  by 
Raphael,  of  exquisite  beaut3\  The  "  Abraham  and  Hagar  " 
of  Guercino,  and  several  paintings  by  Guido,  Domenichino, 
and  Rembrandt,  were  excellent.  The  pictures  by  the  modern 
artists  did  not  strike  me  as  particularly  fine,  although  the 
sculpture  had  great  merit ;  the  ''  Death  of  Cleopatra,"  and 
"  The  Bride,"  were  certainly  works  of  merit.  The  veil  over 
the  Bride's  face  was  so  delicately  wrought,  it  absolutely  re- 
quired the  touch  to  convince  me  it  was  not  of  real  lace. 

We  visited  several  palaces;  among  the  most  splendid 
was  that  of  Castel  Barco.  It  is  an  ancient  building,  and 
has  been  in  one  family  for  six  hundred  years.  The  collection 
of  pictures  is  very  large ;  the  walls  of  all  the  rooms  are  hung 
with  them,  like  a  gorgeous  tapestry.  There  are  vases  and 
columns,  of  all  the  most  valued  marbles  of  Europe,  tables  of 
jasper,  of  porphyry,  and  of  glass,  inlaid  with  silver  and  gold. 
Then  small  armoires  of  ebony  enriched  with  agates,  corne- 
lians, and  other  precious  stones.  The  windows  of  the  draw- 
ing-room opened  upon  a  lovely  garden,  with  fountains  and 
statues ;  the  bustle  of  the  busy  world  was  quite  unheard  in 
''  these  leafy  shades,"  where  the  music  of  the  falling  waters 


INTERIOR   OF   LA    SCALA THE   DANCERS.  213 

and  the  song  of  birds  delighted  the  ear,  while  the  eyes  rested 
upon  the  rarest  flowers  and  freshest  foliage. 

The  Imperial  Palace,  the  abode  of  the  Emperor  when  he 
visits  Milan,  was  built  by  one  of  the  Viscontis  in  1330.  It 
has  some  modern  frescoes  by  Hayez  and  Appiani,  which 
have  Napoleon  for  their  theme.  One  represents  the  Apo- 
theosis of  Napoleon^  in  the  character  of  Jove  standing  upon 
an  eagle ;  another,  his  marriage  with  Maria  Louisa. 

As  it  was  not  the  season  for  the  opera,  we  found  all  the 
theatres  closed ;  still,  desiring  much  to  see  the  interior  of 
La  Scala,  we  obtained  permission  of  the  Impressario  to  visit 
it  during  the  day,  and  he  politely  accompanied  us.  It  is  a 
grand  and  spacious  theatre,  containing  six  or  seven  tiers  of 
boxes ;  each  box  is  hung  with  rich  silk,  heavily  fringed  aud 
looped  up  with  ornaments  of  gold ;  at  least  thirty  persons 
can  be  seated  in  every  one.  There  is  an  antechamber  also. 
It  takes  its  name  from  "  Santa  Maria  della  Scala,"  upon 
the  site  of  which  it  was  built  it  1779.  It  is  the  second 
theatre  in  point  of  size  in  Italy,  and  is  allowed  five  thousand 
pounds  sterling  by  the  government  every  year.  When  we 
went  in,  there  were  two  girls  upon  the  stage  going  through 
the  rehearsal  of  the  new  ballet,  which  was  to  inaugurate 
the  dramatic  season.  As  the  Impressario  told  us  they  were 
his  most  charming  dancers,  we  seated  ourselves  in  one  of  the 
boxes,  to  see  them  go  through  a  pas  de  deux.  As  the  day 
was  warm,  they  were  attired  for  the  dance  (I  might  say  un- 
attired);  with  the  exception  of  their  drawers,  they  only  wore 
the  ghost  of  a  petticoat,  with  a  slight  corsage,  scarcely  con- 
fining the  rich  development  of  their  beautiful  bosoms.  They 
had  the  pure  Roman  profile,  silk-like  hair,  and  full  lips,  red 
as  the  bursting  fruit  of  the  pomegranate.  They  threw  them- 
selves into  most  graceful  attitudes,  and  then  began  a  dance 
in  which  there  were  wonderful  pirouettes,  of  such  duration, 


214:  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

the  dancers  seemed  white  clouds  floating  over  the  stage. 
When  we  told  the  Impressario  how  strikingly  handsome 
they  were,  he  said,  "  Ah  !  could  you  but  see  them  when 
they  are  lighted  up,  you  would  not  wonder  that  they  have 
turned  half  the  heads  in  Milan." 

On  the  front  of  "  La  Scala,"  is  quite  an  appropriate  has 
relief;  it  represents  Apollo  stepping  into  his  car,  while  the 
Goddess  of  Night  is  throwing  her  arms  detainingly  around 
hiQi.  The  Milanese  are  noted  for  their  late  hours  at  operas 
and  theatres ;  indeed,  throughout  Italy,  we  have  remarked 
the  gaiety,  bustle,  and  merriment  of  the  night ;  it  is  only  to- 
wards the  morning  hours  that  silence  prevails. 

The  Corso  is  a  delightful  drive  entirely  around  the  city. 
It  is  upon  the  summit  of  one  series  of  walls,  and  is  planted  on 
either  side  with  trees,  and  is  really  one  of  the  most  enjoyable 
public  promenades  and  drives  we  have  seen  on  the  Continent. 
It  is  said  the  Milanese  will  starve  themselves  for  a  week 
that  they  may  be  enabled  to  afford  the  luxury  of  a  handsome 
equipage  for  the  Corso.  It  was  a  charming  scene,  as  we 
drove  along,  amid  hundreds  of  elegant  carriages  and  well- 
mounted  horsemen.  The  women  were  gaily  dressed ;  they 
are  exceedingly  pretty,  with  dark  hair,  and  lustrous  eyes; 
their  complexions  are  of  a  creamy  whiteness,  like  the  Mag- 
nolia, when  it  first  unfolds  its  petals.  The  black  lace  man- 
tilla falling  upon  their  shoulders  gave  them  a  picturesque 
look.  Now  and  then,  a  dozen  carriages  would  gather  in  a 
circle,  forming  a  little  coterie  apart  from  the  crowd,  where 
there  would  be  merry  talking.  Around  and  around  they 
drove,  until  dark  night  shut  them  out  from  our  eyes. 

From  the  top  of  the  great  tower  of  the  cathedral,  there 
is  a  glorious  view  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy,  and  of  the  dis- 
tant Alps,  rising  up  like  a  grand  rampart  to  divide  the 
"  land  of  the  myrtle  and  orange  "  from  the  cold  north. 


HIGH  MASS  AT  THE  CATHEDRAL.        215 

Napoleon  was  crowned  in  Milan,  in  1805,  with  the  "Iron 
Crown,"  thus  called  from  the  belief  that  one  of  the  nails 
of  the  true  cross  is  mingled  in  the  iron  band  which  lies  be- 
neath the  adornments  of  gold,  silver,  and  of  precious  stones. 
This  crown  once  encircled  the  brow  of  Charlemagne.  It  is 
kept  in  the  treasury  of  Monza  almost  within  sight  of  Milan, 
and  is  only  taken  out  for  the  coronation  of  an  emperor. 
Monza  is  a  small  town  which  we  passed  in  our  way  from 
Como. 

By  dawn  the  bells  of  the  numerous  churches  announced 
the  Sunday  ;  so,  after  writing  letters  to  our  home,  we  went  to 
the  "  Duomo  "  to  hear  high  mass.  Never  did  deeper  solem- 
nity possess  me  than  when  the  swelling  tones  of  the  great 
organ  pealed  through  the  rast  aisles  and  seemed  to  linger 
around  the  lofty  columns.  The  grandeur  of  the  surroundings 
— the  golden-hued  light  falling  from  the  immense  window 
above,  throwing  a  glory  around  the  sculptured  forms  of  the 
saints,  all  so  entirely  disposed  the  soul  to  worship — I  no  longer 
wondered  that  the  Catholics  should  be  deeply  and  fondly 
devoted  to  their  poetic  and  beautiful  faith.  There  were  at 
least  ten  thousand  persons  in  the  cathedral,  and  yet  it  ap- 
peared as  though  they  were  but  hundreds,  so  immense  is  the 
extent  of  the  building.  The  mass  was  a  new  one,  recently 
composed  by  some  artist,  and  full  of  exquisite  melody.  The 
young  girl  who  won  the  prize  of  the  Conservatory  led  the 
choir.     Her  voice  was  sweet,  fresh,  and  sympathetic. 

After  visiting  several  other  churches,  and  hearing  an 
excellent  sermon  in  the  Saini  Ambrosio,  we  returned  to  the 
hotel  to  prepare  for  our  departure  for  Yenice.  We  left 
Milan  in  the  afternoon,  and  travelled  on  the  railway  to  the 
town  of  Treviglio,  where  we  took  the  diligence  and  went  on 
to  Brescia,  quite  a  large  city,  remarkable  for  its  Roman  anti- 
quities and  its  numerous  fountains.     Thence  on  to  the  shores 


216  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

of  the  Lago  di  Garda,  stopping  at  Leonato,  where  Napoleon 
achieved  his  brilliant  victory  over  the  Austrians  in  1796. 
This  lake  is  the  Benacus  of  the  ancients,  and  noted  for  the 
violent  storms  which  sweep  over  it,  rendering  the  surface  of 
its  waters  at  times  like  the  "  troubled  and  tempestuous  ocean." 
Along  its  margin  we  journeyed  all  the  night  in  the  Italian 
style,  about  four  miles  the  hour,  and  encountered  at  every 
change  of  horses  the  annoyance  of  huono  mano.  This  is  a 
call  made  upon  the  generosity  of  travellers  by  the  postig- 
lione.  He  opened  the  door  with  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  wliich 
he  flashed  full  upon  the  eyes  of  every  passenger  in  turn,  and 
called  out,  "  Signor,  huono  inano  !  huono  mayio  !  "  It  was 
needless  to  affect  sleep ;  if  the  light  did  not  awaken,  he  had 
recourse  to  a  good  shake  ;  thus  we  found  it  preferable  to  give 
immediately. 

We  had  several  agreeable  companions  within  the  diligence, 
especially  an  intelligent  Italian,  who  delighted  me  by  repeat- 
ing stanza  after  stanza  of  Dante's  poems.  Then  for  many 
hours  trains  of  Austrian  soldiers  with  their  heavy  artillery 
marched  near  us.  How  fiercely  seemed  to  glow  the  blood  of 
the  Italian  as  he  looked  out  upon  them,  and  told  us  of  the 
wrongs  and  sufferings  of  his  down-trodden  countrymen.  It 
is  indeed  a  sad  spectacle  to  behold  the  bondage  of  this  once 
noble  people.  There  are  times,  we  were  told,  when  the  sight 
of  the  Austrian  soldier  so  enrages  the  peasant,  that  he  will 
fall  upon  him,  even  with  his  hoe,  and  inflict  terrible  wounds, 
knowing  that  for  this  revenge  his  life  will  surely  be  the 
sacrifice  :  but  such  is  their  hatred,  they  will  welcome  death 
rather  than  sue  for  mercy.  Hence,  whenever  it  is  possible, 
the  soldiers  are  marched  from  post  to  post  during  the  night, 
thus  avoiding  conflicts  between  them  and  the  peasantry. 
With  measured  tread,  unaccompanied  by  music,  they  con- 
tinued to  pass  by  the  diligence  until  the  gray  light  of  morn- 


PESCHIERA ^AUSTRIAN    SOLDIERS.  217 

ing  chased  away  the  stars,  and  we  reached  the  fortress  Pes- 
chiera  on  an  island  in  the  Mincio^  just  where  it  leaves  the 
lake.  It  was  j&rst  strongly  fortified  by  Napoleon,  and  since 
that  period  has  been  often  the  scene  of  strife.  In  18-48  it 
endured  a  long  siege  ere  it  surrendered  to  the  Piedmontese 
army  of  Carlo  Alberto. 

We  had  ample  opportunity  of  viewing  the  scenery  around  ; 
for  the  oflBcers  who  were  to  examine  our  passports  were  yet 
asleep,  and  we  waited  their  awakening.  The  "  smooth-sliding 
Mincius,"  which  has  its  birthplace  in  the  Alps,  after  passing 
through  the  Lago  di  Garda^  makes  its  exit  at  Peschiera, 
and  flows  on  by  "  Mantua  the  Glorious,"  to  mingle  with  the 
river  Po.  During  our  time  of  waiting,  about  one  thousand 
Austrian  soldiers  were  drawn  up  to  meet  the  detachments  who 
had  borne  us  company  during  the  night.  They  were  a  robust, 
stalwart  set  of  men,  dressed  all  in  white  except  the  blue 
facings  of  their  coats.  They  have  all  fair  complexions,  and 
their  ruddy  color  told  they  were  but  recently  from  the  moun- 
tain-lands of  the  Tyrolean  Alps.  It  was  quite  a  martial  sight 
when  with  "  pealing  drums  "  and  flashing  bayonets  they  greet- 
ed the  new  comers. 

From  Peschier  a  few  hours'  travel  brought  us  to  Verona. 

At  the  mere  mention  of  that  word,  what  visions  of  faithful 

love  arise !     How   like   a  spell  of  magic  is  the  memory  of 

Juliet !     It  gives  a  sanctity  to  the  city  and  its  surroundings. 

YoL.  I.— 10 


CIIAPTEE    XXY. 

"Am  I  in  Italy? 

Are  those  the  distant  turrets  of  Verona 
And  shall  I  sup  where  Juliet  at  the  masque 
First  saw  and  loved,  and  now,  by  him  who  came 
That  night  a  stranger,  sleeps  from  age  to  age  ?  " 

Verona  presented  a  charming  aspect  as  we  approached  -with- 
in its  serrated  walls  and  high  towers.  It  is  built  upon  the 
Adige,  a  rapid  current  from  the  distant  mountains,  over 
which  are  thrown  several  fine  bridges.  We  drove  to  the 
Alhergo  delle  due  Torri^  and  after  ordering  dinner  and 
obtaining  a  cicerone,  we  started  out  to  see  the  tomb  of  Juliet. 
AVe  passed  through  a  portion  of  an  old  convent,  and  then 
along  a  garden  to  a  miserable  building,  in  which  the  ancient 
guide  pointed  out  with  great  pride  and  importance  "  La 
tomba  di  Giuletta  la  sfortunata  "  (the  tomb  of  Juliet  the  un- 
fortunate). It  is  of  a  reddish  marble,  much  broken  about  the 
edges,  where  it  has  been  cut  away  to  furnish  souvenirs. 
Maria  Louisa,  the  Empress  of  Napoleon,  had  ornaments 
made  from  portions  of  it,  and  the  noble  ladies  of  Verona, 
desirous  of  imitating  her,  were  near  destroying  that  precious 
sarcophagus  which  for  centuries  has  awakened  the  enthusi- 
asm of  all  tourists.  Fortunately  for  the  ciceroni,  the  govern- 
ment came  to  the  rescue,  and  the  ravages  upon  the  tomb 


THE    ROMAN   AMPHITIIEATKE.  219 

were  stayed.  In  one  corner  of  the  ancient  room  there  stood 
a  miserable  and  half-starved  donkey,  who  evidently  made  his 
home  there.  A  red-armed  woman  had  been  washing  clothes 
near  by,  and  we  had  a  suspicion  the  tomb  of  Juliet  served 
her  for  a  wash-tub.  Our  guide  gravely  pointed  out  a  small 
aperture  in  the  bottom,  made  there  to  permit  her  to  breathe 
while  she  lay  in  the  dim,  dark  vault,  Romeo  and  Juliet  are 
supposed  to  have  died  in  1300.  It  was  not,  however,  until 
two  centuries  after  that  the  Italian  authors  founde(J  a 
romance  upon  their  tragic  history. 

We  next  .drove  to  the  "  House  of  the  Capulets,"  now  a 
wretched  little  inn,  then  to  the  ''  Mansion  of  the  Montagues," 
also  a  lodging-place  for  vetturini  and  donkey-driver°.     In 
the  Fiazzi  del  Signori  we  saw  the  singular  tombs  of  the 
Scaligeri  family,  and  in  the  Piazza  di  Bra  the  great  Roman 
amphitheatre.     It  is  of  vast  antiquity  (built,  it  is  imagined, 
about  the  time  of  the  Coliseum),  although  still  in  a  wo°nder- 
ful  state  of  preservation.     It  has  never  been  used  as  though 
it  were  a  stone  quarry,  and   the  materials  employed  in  con- 
structing other  edifices,  as  was  done  with  the  Coliseum  of 
Rome.     Since  the  year  1228  every  Podesta,  when  he   went 
into  office,  was  compelled  to   expend  a  certain  amount  upon 
repairs  for  the  arena.     All  the  ranges  of  seats  are  perfect, 
even  over  the  colossal  arches  are  the  Roman  numbers.    Then 
the  stairways,  the  caverns  for  the  wild  beasts,  and  the  subter- 
ranean passages  by  which  they  were  suddenly  let  loose  upon 
the  doomed  of  the  arena,  are  as  clearly  visible   as  though  it 
were  but  yesterday  that  the  fierce  and   blood-thirsty  crowds 
thronged  the  amphitheatre.     We  climbed  up  row  after  row  of 
seats  until  we  stood  upon  the  rim  or  topmost  edge  of  the  im- 
mense   building.     Plants   had   rooted    themselves   into    the 
crevices  of  the  stones,  and  long  vines  were  pendent  from  the 
summit,  while  a  delicate  white  flower,  star-like  in  shape. 


220  SOUVENLKS    OF    TRAVEL. 

shone  upon  the  surface  of  the  dark  rock.  In  the  recesses  of 
the  wall  and  beneath  the  winding  steps  were  smiths  with 
forges,  and  venders  of  fancy  articles  had  there  made  a  kind 
of  bazaar.  In  one  corner  of  the  arena  there  was  a  circus 
with  a  striped  awning  over  it,  and  several  dashing  horsemen 
who  were  giving  the  storming  of  some  fortress;  the  audience 
appeared  but  few  in  that  mighty  area  capable  of  containing 
fifty  thousand  people,  "VYe  walked  around  the  broad  para- 
pet which  encircles  it,  and  looked  out  upon  the  panorama 
shut  in  by  the  far-away  mountains,  and  then  upon  the  forty 
rows  of  seats  below  us,  which  imagination  peopled  with  the 
eager  throngs  of  the  ancient  days. 

The  Piazza  delle  Erie  is  the  old  market-place,  and  was 
filled  with  fruits  and  flowers.  Each  seller  sat  with  a  mam- 
moth umbrella  over  him  or  her,  made  of  canvas.  It  was 
there  the  followers  of  the  rival  houses  of  the  Capuleiti  and 
Moniecchi  were  wont  to  meet  for  their  daily  quarrels. 

We  visited  several  churches  (of  which  there  are  multi- 
tudes). That  of  "  San  Lenone  "  was  the  most  striking.  It 
is  the  church  of  the  patron  saint  of  Verona,  and  has  fine  pic- 
tures and  many  precious  relics.  In  the  cemetcx-y  near  by  is 
the  tomb  of  King  Pepin,  who  died  at  Milan  in  A.  D.  810. 

Verona  is  the  birthplace  of  Paolo  Veronese,  the  admira- 
ble painter,  but  we  saw  very  few  of  his  paintings  there ; 
they  embellish  the  galleries  of  princes  in  other  cities.  How- 
ever, the  inhabitants  have  the  glory  of  calling  him  compatriot. 

From  "  Verona  the  Worthy,"  we  went  on  by  railway, 
passing  the  battle-field  of  Areola,  where  Napoleon  won  the 
great  victory  over  the  Austrians.  Near  the  bridge  of  Ar- 
eola is  an  obelisk,  commemorative  of  the  event.  The  coun- 
try around  is  cut  into  canals  for  the  purpose  of  draining  the 
land  ;  and  in  one  of  these  Napoleon  remained  some  time,  sur- 
rounded by  the  enemy,  until  his  faithful  guards  rescued  him. 

At  Vicenza  we  only  tarried  a  short  period.     It  has  many 


VICENZA PADUA.  221 

fine  palaces,  built  by  the  famous  Palladio,  who  was  a  native 
of  the  city,  and  churches  innumerable,  where  there  are  the 
paintings  of  Paul  Veronese,  and  other  famous  artists.  In 
Viceuza,  as  at  Verona,  the  windows  had  great  iron  bars  in 
front  of  them,  behind  which  we  often  saw  fresh  young  faces 
peeping  out.  The  women  have  a  picturesque  costume,  and 
wear  long  white  veils  over  their  heads. 

Next  we  came  to  "  Padua  the  Powerful,"  celebrated  for 
its  university,  its  palaces,  and  its  Cafe,  Pedrocchi,  erected  by 
a  man  of  that  name,  who  every  week  paid  all  his  workmen  in 
Venetian  gold.  Soon  strange  stories  grew  up  concerning 
him ;  and,  as  he  had  always  been  poor  until  the  beginning 
of  this  building,  it  was  imagined  he  had  dealings  with  the 
"  Fiend  of  men's  souls."  However,  it  proved  he  was  a  gam- 
bler, and  thus  suddenly  became  a  millionaire  by  an  extraor- 
dinary "  run  of  luck."  He  resolved  to  raise  a  monument  in 
his  native  city  which  should  perpetuate  his  name ;  and  being 
somewhat  of  an  utilitarian,  he  combined  the  fanciful  with 
the  useful^  and  built  the  "  Cafe  Pedrocchi,"  famous  through 
Italy  for  its  fine  architecture,  and  for  the  magnificence  of  its 
saloons.  There  are  ball-rooms  and  concert-saloons,  Egyptian 
and  Grecian  rooms,  Pompeian  and  Turkish  apartments,  all 
furnished  in  splendid  style.  One  boudoir  struck  us  as  sin- 
gularly elegant.  It  was  lighted  as  by  the  moonbeams,  with 
a  divan  around  a  bank  of  freshly  blooming  flowers.  This 
was  named  the  "  Lovers'  Room,"  where  fond  hearts  might 
breathe  "  those  soft  falsehoods  so  precious  to  lovers'  ears." 

Padua  is  of  vast  antiquity.  It  was  a  city  when  the 
great  forest  covered  the  site  of  "  Imperial  Rome."  Virgil 
sings  of  its  origin  in  the  iEneid  : 

"  Antenor,  from  the  midst  of  Grecian  hosts, 
Could  pass  secure,  and  pierce  th'  lUyrian  coasts : 
At  length  he  founded  Padua's  happy  seat, 
And  gave  his  Trojans  a  secure  retreat." 


'OOO, 


SOUVENIKS   OF    TRAVEL. 


It  is  supposed  the  bones  of  Anterior  were  discovered  in 
1274,  in  digging  the  foundation  of  a  church.  In  a  marble 
sarcophagus  they  found  a  skeleton  form,  with  the  hand  grasp- 
ing a  sword.  A  Greek  inscription  told  that  it  was  the 
body  of  Antenor.  Padua  has  many  fine  old  palaces,  among 
them  the  Palazzo  di  Bo,  containing  the  statue  of  Elena  Cur- 
naro,  who  was  the  most  wonderful  linguist,  musician,  and 
poetess.  She  received  a  doctor's  degree  from  the  Univer- 
sity. She  died  unmarried.  As  the  old  guide  said,  "  Her 
mind  was  so  filled  with  learning,  and  her  heart  so  devoted  to 
knowledge,  there  was  no  room  for  love."  The  first  anatom- 
ical theatre  was  built  there  in  1594.  Galileo  was  a  teacher 
of  mathematics  in  the  "  Palace  of  Learning."  Livy,  Belzoni, 
and  Cornaro  were  born  in  Padua. 

The  houses  are  supported  along  the  chief  squares  by  high 
pointed  arches.  The  Palazzo  della  Ragione,  erected  in  1172 
by  Pietro  Cozzo,  is  a  most  singular  building  ;  in  it  is  an  im- 
mense hall,  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the  world  unsustained 
by  pillars.  The  roof  is  covered  by  mystical  pictures  painted 
by  Giotto. 

The  Church  of  San  Antonio  is  rich  in  works  of  art.  Pil- 
grims visit  it  from  many  lands,  and  always  bear  away  with 
them  some  precious  relic ;  hence  the  revenue  of  the  Church 
is  very  large.  Not  far  from  it  are  the  Botanical  Gardens. 
They  were  the  first  established  in  Europe,  and  contain  some 
of  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  lofty  magnolias,  palm-trees,  and  an 
old  plane-tree,  planted  when  the  gardens  were  laid  out  in  1545 
— so  they  told  me. 

From  Padua  we  continued  our  journey  on  the  railway, 
which  passes  through  a  well-cultivated  country,  embellished 
with  villas  of  the  nobility,  half  hidden  amid  large  groves. 
Along  the  green  fields  were  lines  of  crimson  poppies,  and 
blue  lakes,  as  it  were,  of  some   azure-hued  blossom.     The 


rilE    PLACE   OF   THE   SIEGE.  223 

grape-vines  were  not  trained  upon  arbors  or  trellises,  but 
suflfored  to  climb  tall  trees,  from  which  they  hung  in  graceful 
festoons.  We  often  remarked  mile  after  mile  of  the  country 
thus  planted  with  vines  and  trees  linked  together.  It  re- 
minded me  of  some  of  the  dances  of  the  Viennoise  Children, 
when  they  moved  up  the  stage,  bound  by  wreaths  of  green, 
and  all  moving  as  by  one  impulse.  Thus,  when  the  breeze 
touched  the  long  waving  links,  they  seemed  to  advance  to- 
wards us,  as  though  impelled  by  music. 

It  was  still  daylight  when  we  crossed  the  viaduct,  two 
miles  in  length,  which  unites  Venice  to  the  mainland.  We 
passed  the  small  island  where  the  brave  Venetians  so  long 
defended  themselves  from  the  attacks  of  the  Austrians.  An 
Italian  related  to  us  many  thrilling  incidents  of  those  days 
of  siege,  sorrow,  and  suffering.  Never  were  there  nobler 
martyrs  than  those  who  yielded  up  their  lives  on  that  spot. 
It  was  known  within  the  city  that  the  service  was  one  of  ex- 
treme danger  ;  still  the  very  flower  of  the  Venetian  nobility 
eagerly  volunteered  each  day  for  the  perilous  post,  and  each 
night  brought  "  wailiug  and  weeping "  to  the  desolated 
homes,  in  the  tidings  of  their  death.  But  their  places  were 
quickly  supplied  by  others  equally  as  brave,  and  thus  wore 
on  the  long  and  gloomy  months,  until  they  numbered 
,  eighteen.  Then  cholera  came,  as  the  ally  of  the  Austrians 
and  of  famine,  and  the  "  sea-girt  city  ^'  succumbed  to  their 
resistless  power.  "  Ah  !  was  there  not  in  that  fearful  strug- 
gle clear  evidence  of  the  noble  spirit  of  the  bright  days  of 
the  Republic  ?  "  Upon  that  little  island  we  all  gazed  long 
and  sadly,  as  though  it  were  a  holy  place,  and  made  sacred  by 
"the  blood  of  martyrs  in  freedom's  cause." 

At  the  dogana  (custom-house)  we  were  forced  to  stop 
some  time.  There  were  hundreds  waiting  for  the  examina- 
tion of  their  passports,  and  the  visitation  of  the  baggage. 


224  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Novrbere  in  Europe  have  we  seen  them  so  Btrict  and  search- 
ing. We  were  all  ordered  into  a  large  saloon,  around  which 
were  ranged  Austrian  soldiers,  cold,  white,  and  stern,  as  im- 
movable in  form  and  feature  as  statues.  The  ofiScer  of  the 
police,  accompanied  by  various  assistants,  then  began  the  in- 
spection, by  opening  every  letter,  note,  and  hotel  bill,  care- 
fully reading  them  all  entirely  through,  calling  in  my  aid 
when  he  could  not  discover  the  exact  word.  Next  he  un- 
folded every  chemisette  and  collar,  as  though  treason  lurked 
within  them,  shook  out  the  dresses  and  petticoats,  unrolled 
the  stockings,  felt  into  the  fingers  of  the  gloves,  and  finally 
rose  up,  saying,  "  There  is  nothing  contraband  or  revolution- 
ary." "  Well,  thank  Hearen  !  "  thought  we,  "  now  all  trouble 
is  ended."  Not  at  all !  As  I  was  the  "  talking  medium  " 
of  our  party,  I  was  summoned  within  the  railing,  where  sat 
a  dignified  oflBcer,  who  politely  requested  I  should  answer 
the  questions  he  propounded,  which  answers  he  wrote  down 
in  a  great  book  before  him  :  "  Where  are  you  from  ?  What 
part  of  the  United  States  ?  How  old  are  you  ?  How  long 
have  you  been  married  ?  How  many  months  since  you  came 
to  Europe  ?  Is  this  your  only  daughter  ?  "  To  all  of  these 
particular  inquiries  T  gave  satisfactory  responses,  which  are 
recorded  for  the  benefit  of  posterity.  Then  came  the  same 
questions  to  all  the  others,  until  they  reached  Betsey,  whom 
he  styled  a  Moor  ;  whereupon  she  implored  I  would  inform 
him  she  had  nothing  but  pure  American  blood  in  her  veins, 
and  was  a  slave  from  the  South.  However,  he  insisted  (as 
she  was  a  mulatto)  in  "  writing  her  down "  U7ia  Iloretia. 
R.  puzzled  him  extremely.  His  intensely  black  eyes,  beard, 
and  moustache,  were  certainly  very  Italian-looking ;  so  I  was 
compelled  to  answer  a  treble  number  of  questions  concerniug 
the  place  of  his  birth.     I  very  gravely  gave  him  the  name  of 


THE    NAME    AMERICA    A    SPELL.  225 

a  county  in  Virginia  containing  fourteen  letters,  divided  into 
five  or  six  syllables,  dwelling  with  especial  emphasis  upon 
each  one.  He  was  rather  annoyed  at  this  long  and  difl&cult 
word  to  write,  and  again  desired  my  aid  to  spell  it. 

I  must  confess  the  officer  explained  to  me  the  reason  of 
this  remarkable  strictness  was  in  consequence  of  the  fact 
that  Mazzini  had  lately  entered  the  Austrian  dominions  with 
an  English  passport.  Before  reaching  this  dogana,  when- 
ever we  said  "  we  are  Americans,"  our  baggage  was  passed 
with  only  a  glance  thrown  upon  it.  Every  where  in  Italy 
has  the  word  American  been  as  a  "  spell  of  power,"  to  en- 
circle us  by  kind  and  cordial  attentions.  With  honest  pride 
have  our  hearts  glowed,  when  we  have  seen  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  the  mention  of  our  dear  native  land.  The  wish  to 
hear  of  America  and  to  speak  of  it  was  universal.  Like  unto 
the  Christian's  hope  of  peace  and  rest  in  Heaven,  are  the  yearn- 
ing and  earnest  desire  of  the  oppressed  Italians  to  make  their 
home  in  America. 

A  low  bow  from  the  officer  informed  us  we  were  permit- 
ted to  depart ;  so  we  crammed  all  our  wardrobe  hastily  into 
the  carpet-bags,  and  pushed  our  way  through  the  crowd  to  a 
platform  in  front  of  the  custom-house.  Dark  forms  soon  sur- 
rounded us.  "  Gondola,  Signer  !  "  "  Barca  !  "  ''  Omni- 
bus !  "  What  a  destruction  of  romantic  visions  !  an  omnibus 
in  Venice  !  However,  when  we  looked  down,  we  discovered 
the  dark  boat  bearing  this  name  was  a  large-sized  gondola. 
We  were  soon  in  it,  gliding  noiselessly  and  slowly  away  to- 
wards the  great  dome  of  San  Marco,  which,  with  many  tur- 
rets and  columns,  seemed  painted  upon  the  deep  blue  of  the 
sky. 

We  passed  over  the  Lagoon  into  streets  like  canals.  Out 
of  them  rose  up  marble-fronted  palaces,  and  over  them  were 
Vol.  L— 10* 


226  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

bridges,  under  whose  shadow  we  floated,  as  the  gondolier 
gave  a  cry  of  warning  to  approaching  gondolas ;  these  seemed 
to  fly  past  us,  as  though  they  were  immense  birds  of  night. 
At  first  the  darkness  was  unbroken  by  a  single  light ;  but 
soon  we  emerged  into  a  wider  street  (or  canal),  and  came  to 
a  palace,  whence  brilliant  rays  streamed  from  every  window, 
and  music  from  the  thronged  saloons  filled  the  air.  A  fleet 
of  gondolas  was  gathered  around,  and  from  them  stepped  out 
richly  dressed  women  and  dark  cavaliers.  They  tripped  up 
the  marble  stairway,  and  entered  the  ancient  palace.  It  was 
a  wedding-feast  there  that  night,  they  told  us,  and  hence  the 
gay  assemblage.  Then  by  the  theatre,  beneath  the  Rialto,  to 
the  Hiva  del  Schiavoni,  where  we  landed  at  a  little  quai,  and 
thence  into  the  Mocenigo  Palace  (now  a  hotel  called  the 
"  Reale  Danieli.")  About  the  vestibule  were  many  linger- 
ing traces  of  its  former  splendor.  Lofty  columns,  supported 
on  the  shoulders  of  kneeling  statues  of  negro  slaves,  sus- 
tained the  roof,  all  frescoed  and  gilded.  A  wide  marble 
staircase  led  to  the  stories  above.  Thence  we  passed  along 
winding  passages  to  a  suite  of  rooms  (twelve  in  number)  ap- 
propriated to  us.  There  were  great  saloons,  with  mirrors 
touched  by  the  mildew  of  ages, — faded  pictures  looking  from 
the  walls, — beds  within  gloomy  alcoves,  before  which  hung 
draperies  of  heavy  silk,  and  floors  (of  a  species  of  mosaic) 
cold  and  hard  as  stone. 

With  only  a  partial  glance  at  our  labyrinth  of  apartments, 
ante-chambers,  and  mysterious  corridors,  we  hastened  to 
bed ;  for  we  were  very  weary.  Just  as  "  sleep  came  at  our 
bidding,"  we  were  aroused  by  a  serenade  under  our  window. 
We  sprang  up,  and,  wrapping  our  mantles  around  us,  went 
out  upon  the  balcony.  Beneath  its  shadow  was  a  gondola, 
with  several  musicians.     They  sang  a  sweet  Venetian  melo- 


A   SERENADE.  227 

dy,  accompanied  by  the  guitar.  It  was  bewitching;  and 
with  delight  we  exclaimed,  "  This  is  indeed  the  Venice  of  our 
dreams  !  "  This  is  indeed  the  Venice,  "  of  joy  the  sojourn." 
We  stood  enjoying  the  scene  until  the  clock  struck  twelve — 
then  sought  repose. 


CHAPTEK  XXYI. 

"  There  is  a  glorious  city  in  the  sea. 
The  sea  is  in  the  broad,  the  narrow  streets, 
Ebbing  and  flowing ;  and  the  salt  sea-weed 
Clings  to  the  marble  of  her  palaces." 

Enchanting  were  the  beautiful  days  of  our  sojourn  in 
Venice ;  life  was  filled  with  a  new  joy  as  we  lingered  there. 
Days  and  hours  glided  away  upon  a  tide  of  pleasurable 
emotions,  while  it  seemed  as  though  wings  gently  bore  us  up, 
waftiDg  us  from  scene  to  scene  of  interest.  It  was  like  a 
delicious  dream  in  which  the  past  was  mingled  with  the  pres- 
ent ;  all  was  so  different  from  the  world  we  had  known  be- 
fore, in  its  mystical,  unique,  and  strange  character.  The 
climate  was  delightful,  the  air  fresh  and  balmy,  and  we  felt, 
as  in  the  Island  of  Cuba,  the  mere  breathing  of  the  atmos- 
phere was  an  enjoyment.  LoDg  days  we  passed  in  the 
gondola,  and  hours  of  the  night  upon  the  Lagoons,  and  in  the 
"  water-streets."  We  never  felt  weariness,  or  the  need  of 
sleep,  so  completely  were  we  absorbed  in  the  novel  existence 
of  wonderful  Venice  : 

"  Throned  on  her  thousand  isles, 
She  looks  a  Sea-Cybele  fresh  from  ocean, 
Rising  with  her  tiara  of  proud  towers !  " 


CATHEDRAL    OF    SAN   MARCO.  229 

We  visited  all  the  old  palaces,  churches,  galleries,  and 
duncreons.     But  the  Cathedral  of  San  Marco  claimed  our 

o 

greatest  admiration ;  it  is  a  majestic  edifice,  partaking  of 
the  Saracenic  grandeur,  while  it  presents  the  form  of  the 
Greek  cross.  Great  domes  and  minarets  adorn  the  summit, 
like  those  of  a  Turkish  mosque.  The  facade  is  covered 
with  mosaics  and  sculpture.  Just  above  the  central  door- 
way are  the  world-renowned  bronze  horses,  about  whose 
origin  such  mystery  hangs.  They  have  at  least  been  travel- 
lers in  their  day  ;  as  history  tells  us,  they  were  brought  from 
Alexandria  to  Rome,  from  Rome  to  Constantinople,  thence 
to  Venice  ;  from  Venice  to  Paris,  and  after  the  downfall  of 
Napoleon,  returned  to  their  ancient  position,  whence  they 
seem  springing  forward,  so  bold  and  spirited  are  their 
forms. 

The  Church  of  San  Marco  was  built  in  976,  purposely  to 
contain  the  precious  relics  of  the  Saint.  During  the  glorious 
days  of  Venice,  it  was  the  custom  of  all  home-returning  ships 
to  bring  some  treasure  to  the  ''  Ducal  Chapel,"  (as  it  was 
first  styled.)  Passing  through  the  archway,  sustained  by 
pillars,  (of  which  there  are  hundreds,  and  each  one  a  trophy 
of  Venetian  conquest,)  we  entered  the  Cat^jedral.  It  was 
some  time  ere  the  eye  could  become  accustomed  to  the  con- 
fusion and  profusion  of  ornament  "within  its  walls;  there  was 
such  elaborate  gilding,  such  gorgeous  mosaics  upon  a  golden 
ground,  such  forests  of  columns,  of  verd  antique,  of  jasper,  of 
porphyry,  of.  alabaster — such  enormous  doors  of  bronze, 
upon  which  Sansovino  spent  twenty  years  in  carving  "  The 
Death  and  Resurrection  of  the  Saviour."  Then  the  altars 
with  rich  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  inlaid  with  rare  jewels, 
and  the  sacred  chapel,  with  religious  relics  of  priceless  value. 
The  floors  are  uneven,  as  though  they  were  purposely  made 
to  imitate  the  undulating  of  the  sea-waves.    The  pavement  of 


230  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

tesselated  marble  is  much  injured  by  time.  In  front  of  the 
great  door  are  several  squares  of  red  marble,  indicating  the 
spot  where  the  Emperor  Frederic  Barbarossa  bowed  his  head 
when  the  Pope,  Alexander  III.,  placed  his  foot  upon  his  neck, 
repeating  the  words  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Thou  shalt  tread 
upon  the  lion  and  the  adder  !  "  The  grand  altar,  under 
which  reposes  the.  body  of  Saint  Mark,  was  brought  from 
Saint  Sophia,  at  Constantinople.  It  has  columns  of  Parian 
marble  curiously  carved.  There  are  very  few  paintings  in 
the  Cathedral ;  all  the  pictures  are  in  mosaic,  illustrative  of 
incidents  in  the  history  of  the  Saint. 

Just  in  front  of  San  Marco  are  three  tall  red  masts,  in 
dicative  of  the  three  great  conquests  of  the  republic ;  these 
were  Cyprus,  Candia,  and  the  Morea.  In  ancient  days, 
three  gonfalons,  or  banners  of  silk  and  gold,  floated  from 
them  ;  now,  upon  important  occasions,  they  support  the  flag 
of  Austria.  The  '•  Tower  of  the  Clock "  is  near  by ;  it 
has  two  gigantic  Moorish  figures  in  bronze,  which  strike  the 
hours  on  a  dazzling  dial  of  azure  and  gold. 

The  Piazza  di  San  Marco  is  the  only  square  in  Venice ; 
it  is  the  focus  where  all  the  rays  of  life  concentrate.  It  is 
paved,  and  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  lofty  buildings, 
with  a  fringe  of  graceful  arcades  uniting  them.  On  the 
fourth  side  it  is  bounded  by  the  noble  Cathedral.  In  the 
Piazzetta  di  San  Marco,  just  where  we  landed  from  the 
gondola,  we  saw  the  Winged  Lion  of  St.  Mark.  It  stands 
on  the  summit  of  a  granite  column,  and  near  by  it,  on  a  simi- 
lar column,  is  the  statue  of  Saint  Theodore.  The  lion  was 
taken  by  the  French  to  "  des  Invalides  "  at  Paris,  but  after 
a  brief  sojourn  there,  returned  to  Venice. 

As  we  left  the  Cathedral  it  was  about  two  o'clock,  and 
we  found  the  square  of  St.  Mark  absolutely  paved  with 
pigeons,  devouring  the  grain  which  numerous  persons  were 


THE   DUCAL   PALACE.  231 

throwing  down  to  them,  while  long  lines  of  singularly  cos- 
tumed people  were  looking  on.  Around  and  around  were 
wheeling,  like  squadrons  of  cavalry,  the  great  flocks,  awaitino- 
their  turn  to  make  a  dash  at  the  food  on  the  Piazza.  Since 
the  dim  dark  ages,  when  Venice  was  but  a  fishing  town, 
these  pigeons,  or  rather  their  ancestor  pigeons,  have  been 
cherished  with  a  holy  reverence.  A  superstitious  love  pro- 
tects them  from  harm,  and  a  governmental  decree  ordains 
they  shall  be  regularly  fed.  Thus  they  "  increase  and  mul- 
tiply," until  they  number  myriads  and  myriads. 

The  Campanile  di  San  Marco  is  a  lofty  tower,  said  to 
be  the  highest  in  Italy.  From  its  summit  the  view  reveals 
a  panorama  of  wondrous  extent,  embracing  the  Friouli 
Alps,  and  the  coast  of  Istria,  the  Adriatic,  and  far-away 
Padua ;  the  ascent  is  by  an  inclined  plane,  up  which  Napo- 
leon rode  on  horseback.  There  is  a  loggia  (a  gallery)  at 
the  base,  built  by  Sansovino  in  15-10.  It  has  four  statues 
in  bronze,  of  Peace,  Apollo,  Mercury,  and  Pallas. 

The  Ducal  Palace  is  an  immense  structure,  built,  it 
would  seem,  for  eternity.  There  is  a  massiveness  and  solidity 
about  it,  which  have  defied  the  fingers  of  "  defacing  time." 
Then  its  memories,  caught  in  the  golden  meshes  of  his  genius, 
and  made  all  radiant  by  the  flowing  verse  of  Byron,  abso- 
lutely "re-people  the  past,"  and  it  was  with  fast-beating 
pulses  we  ascended  the  "  Giant's  Stairway,"  with  its  colos- 
sal statues  of  Neptune  and  Mars,  and  entered  its  vast  saloons. 
The  magnificent  pictures  in  the  various  rooms  speak  elo- 
quently of  the  bygone  glory  of  Venice.  Patriotism  seems 
to  have  been  the  inspiration  which  animated  its  artists. 
Thus  the  frescoes  of  Tintoretto,  the  works  of  Palladio,  the 
grand  paintings  of  Titian,  and  the  pictures  of  Paul  Veronese, 
are  all  illustrative  of  her  triumphs  by  land  and  by  sea. 

The  "  Hall  of  the  Great  Council  "  is  a  noble  room,  with 


232  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

gorgeous  frescoes,  and  just  below  the  cornice,  a  frieze  contain- 
ing the  portraits  of  all  the  Doges.  The  space  allotted  to  that 
of  Marino  Faliero  is  covered  with  a  black  veil,  and  the  in- 
scription telling  of  his  crime  and  of  his  violent  death.  Near 
the  entrance  was  the  famous  painting  of  Tintoretto,  called  the 
"  Glory  of  Paradise."  It  is  said  to  be  the  largest  picture  in 
the  world  painted  upon  canvas;  although  the  dampness  of 
centuries  has  injured  it,  there  still  linger  about  it  evidences  of 
the  grandeur  of  its  early  days.  It  is  clearly  shown  within  this 
"  Palace  of  the  Doges,"  that  Tintoretto  was  the  most  extra- 
ordinary artist  who  ever  lived,  in  point  of  industry  and 
energy ;  there  are  almost  miles  of  his  paintings,  even  in 
Venice.  Could  he  have  been  subject  to  the  weariness  of 
human  nature?  Were  not  all  his  days,  and  nights  too,  devoted 
to  his  art  ?  Irresistibly  these  thoughts  pressed  upon  me,  as 
room  after  room  was  visited,  ceilings,  and  walls,  painted 
by  his  hands,  and  all  the  figures  instinct  as  it  were  with  life 
and  power. 

In  the  Sola  dello  Scrutinio  we  saw  the  door  which  is  an 
arch  in  honor  of  Francesco  3Iorosini,  who  conquered  the 
Morea,  and  the  "  Last  Judgment,"  by  Jacopo  Palma.  It  is 
a  fearful  picture  :  the  good  are  receiving  rewards  from  angels, 
while  the  wicked  are  given  into  charge  of  fiends  ;  the  Saviour 
is  upon  a  throne,  wrapped  in  red  drarpery,  with  a  halo  of  light 
around  him. 

Up  the  Scald  d'Oro  (the  golden  staircase)  we  mounted, 
to  the  "  Hall  of  Four  Doors  "  by  Palladio,  where  we  looked 
upon  Titian's  great  picture  of  "  Faith,"  and  in  the  room  be- 
yond saw  the  beautiful  though  sensuous  "  Rape  of  Europa," 
by  Paul  Veronese.  The  face  of  Europa  is  exquisite,  and 
the  majesty  of  the  god  lurks  in  the  expression  of  the  bull's 
head,  as  he  turns  it  to  lick  the  dainty  feet  hanging  listlessly 
from  his  back,  whereon  is  still   seated  his  precious  burden, 


LIBRARY   AND    MUSEUM    OF    ANTIQUITIES.  233 

while  the  bull  has  fallen  on  the  shore  from  the  weariness  of 
jiis  long  voyage. 

But  vain  is  the  effort  to  describe  all  the  wealth  of  pic- 
tures ;  we  hurried  on  through  many  a  room,  where  we  would 
fain  have  tarried  hours ;  in  them  were  not  only  paintings, 
but  busts  and  figures  of  ancient  sculpture.  In  the  gallery 
containing  the  busts  of  the  "  great  captains  of  the  republic," 
was  one  in  hlach  marble  of  Othello.  It  has  perfect  negro 
features,  and  crispy  hair ;  they  told  us  it  was  deemed  a  re- 
semblance of  the  original. 

The  Library  has  sixty  thousand  volumes,  and  thousands 
of  manuscripts.  It  owes  its  origin  to  Petrarch,  who  gave  to 
Venice  his  manuscripts  in  gratitude  for  the  hospitality  with 
which  they  welcomed  him  when  he  fled  from  the  plague. 
Other  learned  men  followed  his  example,  and  thus  grew  up 
this  valuable  collection. 

In  the  Museum  of  Antiquities,  near  by  it,  are  many  works 
of  art  during  the  Grecian  period  of  supremacy.  Among  them 
we  greatly  admired  Ganymede  borne  away  by  the  eagle;  it 
is  attributed  to  Phidias,  and  is  beautiful.  "  Leda  and  the 
Swan  "  were  likewise  there.  Then  we  saw  the  map  of  the 
world,  drawn  in  1460,  showing  the  ideas  then  prevailing 
of  our  globe.  The  Greek  Cameo,  discovered  in  1793  at 
Ephesus,  was  also  shown  us.  The  chamber  of  the  "  Council 
of  Ten  "  is  a  small  apartment,  with  gorgeous  frescoes  and  pic- 
tures. It  was  there  Marino  Faliero  and  Foscari  were  con- 
demned to  death. 

In  a  long,  dark  corridor  of  the  Palace,  an  old,  trembling 
man  (the  cicerone)  lighted  lamps,  and  attended  us  to  the 
dungeons,  or  pozzi,  beneath.  Frightful  places  they  were, 
arranged  in  stories,  one  below  the  other ;  the  upper  one  had 
a  small  window  near  the  roof,  but  the  others  had  neither 
light  nor  air.    They  were  only  a  few  feet  in  width  and  breadth, 


23i  SODVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

and  only  seven  in  height.  Over  the  walls  were  scratched, 
seemingly  with  a  nail,  words  of  anguish  by  the  prisoners : 
one  was,  "  There  is  no  trust  but  in  God  ;  "  another,  "  Repent- 
ance too  late  ;  "  and  various  others,  expressive  of  deep  despair. 
The  lowest  of  the  cells  was  called  the  "  Cell  of  Consolation." 
It  was  there  the  victim  was  placed  one  hour  before  his  ex- 
ecution, when  the  priest  came  to  give  him  the  last  blessing 
of  religion. 

Coming  up  from  these  cold  "  prison  wells,"  we  crossed 
over  the  long-famed  Bridge  of  Sighs. 

"  I  stood  in  Venice,  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  ; 
A  palace  and  a  prison  on  each  hand." 

The  condemned  were  taken  from  the  dungeons  across  this 
bridge  to  the  prison,  where  they  were  executed.  There  are 
several  windows  in  it,  through  which  they  caught  their  last 
look  of  the  blue  sky  of  Venice.  The  bridge  is  very  high 
above  the  water  of  the  narrow  canal,  dividing  the  two  build- 
ings, and  appears  to  hang  like  a  giant  coffin  in  the  air. 

In  the  "  Academia  "  wre  passed  many  hours  amid  the 
noble  paintings  of  Titian,  of  Paul  Veronese,  of  Bassano,  of 
Palma,  of  Contarini,  and  of  Tintoretto.  The  "  Assumption 
of  the  Virgin  "  is.  beyond  all  doubt,  one  of  the  most  exquisite 
pictures  that  Titian  ever  painted.  The  figure  of  the  Virgin, 
with  its  blue  drapery,  is  indescribably  beautiful;  while  a  divine 
light  plays  around  the  innocent  face,  filling  the  soul  of  the 
beholder  with  reverence.  The  "  Presentation  at  the  Temple," 
(also  by  Titian,)  has  great  power  and  expression ;  in  fact, 
Titian  is  seen  in  all  his  glory  in  Venice.  In  many  of  the 
churches  we  saw  splendid  pictures  by  him ;  his  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Sebastian  are  wonderful  creations  of  genius.  Often 
did  wo  think,  as  our  eyes  dwelt  delighted  upon  his  paint- 
ings, of  the  remark  of  our  dear  and  gifted  Grace  Greenwood, 


-THE  oriaiA.  235 

when  we  met  in  London,  just  after  her  return  from  Italy  : 
"  Titian  is  th€  Shakspeare  of  painters."  There  is  a  golden 
light  about  his  pictures,  possessed  by  no  other  artist.  He 
must  have  touched  them  with  colors  now  unknown.  Goethe, 
in  his  "  Letters  from  Italy,"  mentions  particularly  the  bril- 
liancy of  the  paintings  of  Titian  and  Paul  Veronese,  and 
accounts  for  it  in  the  following  manner.  "  The  eye  forms 
itself  by  the  objects  which  from  youth  it  is  accustomed  to 
look  upon ;  and  so  the  Venetian  artist  sees  all  things  in  a 
brighter  and  clearer  light  than  other  men.  As  I  floated 
down  the  Lagunes  in  the  full  sunshine,  and  observed  how 
the  figures  of  the  gondoliers,  in  their  motley  costume,  stood 
from  the  bright  green  of  the  water,  and  against  the  blue  sky, 
I  caught  the  best  and  freshest  type  of  the  Venetian  school. 
The  sunlight  brought  out  the  local  colors  with  dazzling 
brilliancy,  and  the  shades  even  were  so  luminous  thatj  com- 
paratively, they  in  their  turn  might  serve  as  lights;  and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  the  reflection  from  the  sea-green  water. 
All  was  painted  cTiiaro  nell  chiaro,  so  that  foamy  waves  and 
lightning  flashes  were  necessary  to  give  it  a  grand  finish." 

At  night  we  went  to  the  "  Fenice,"  a  handsome  theatre, 
built  during  the  past  century.  The  opera  of  "  Attila  the 
Hun  "  was  given  by  an  admirable  company,  who  had  opened 
the  '^  Fenice  "  for  a  few  nights,  while  they  waited  the  begin- 
ning of  the  season  at  the  Scala  of  Milan.  There  were 
Austrian  soldiers  stationed  at  all  the  doors,  and  several 
like  marble  statues  along  the  parquette.  A  light  vaude- 
ville followed  the  opera,  in  which  the  acting  was  inimitable, 
and  so  expressive  that  strangers  to  the  language  understood 
tlie  plot  and  incidents  perfectly,  from  the  gestures  and  play 
of  the  countenance.  The  Italians  are  unequalled  as  mimics 
or  pantomimists. 

The  Grand  Canal. — We  have  spent  all  the   day  along 


236  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

the  Grand  Canal,  which  winds  like  a  serpent  through  the 
centre  of  Venice.  No  city  in  the  world  can  boast  a  more 
magnificent  street.  From  the  Mocenigo  Palace  we  stept 
into  our  gondola,  and  passed  along  the  '*  Piazzetta  di  San 
Marco,"  by  the  Royal  Garden,  the  only  green  spot  in  the 
island,  and  then  entered  the  canal.  It  is  very  broad,  with 
its  waters  ebbing  and  flowing  with  the  swell  of  the  Adriatic. 
From  their  green  depths  rise  up  on  each  side  immense 
palaces  fronted  with  marble,  of  vast  height,  and  occasionally 
adorned  with  balconies,  or  bow-windows,  shaded  by  gaily- 
colored  awnings.  The  sparkling  waves  created  by  our  gon- 
dola, rippled  over  the  lowest  steps  of  the  wide  marble  stair- 
way, leading  to  their  vestibules,  or  corridors. 

As  ours  was  a  "  voyage  of  delight  " — a  voyage  in  pursuit 
of  golden  memories  to  treasure  in  the  heart  forever,  we 
brought  back  a  rich  freight,  beginning  with  the  Palazzo  Emo, 
where  we  saw  the  fine  statues  by  Canova  of  Hector  and  Ajax, 
continuing  on  until  we  came  to  the  Isola  Santa  Chiara, 
where  the  Grand  Canal  terminates.  We  visited  all  the  most 
remarkable  palaces,  viewing  their  collections  of  pictures,  their 
statuary,  and  objects  of  vertu. 

The  Palace  of  Foscari  has  a  thrilling  interest  from  its 
name.  Byron's  tragedy  has  engraven  it  upon  many  a  heart, 
and  sad  remembrances  of  Marina  and  the  young  Foscari 
came  to  us  as  we  walked  through  the  noble  saloons.  There  we 
saw  too  the  Contarini  Palace,  where  he  wooed  and  won  his 
beautiful  bride  ;  for  she  was 

"A  daughter  of  the  house  that  now  among 
Its  ancestors  in  monumental  brass 
Numbers  eight  Doges." 

In  honor  of  her  the  bucentaur  was  brought  out,  and  the  canal 
in  front  of  the  Palace  was  covered  by  a  bridge  of  boats,  that 


bykon's  koom  at  mocenigo  palace.    237 

the  bridegroom  might  pass  over,  attended  by  his  grand 
retinue  of  horse.  "  The  marriage  caused  great  rejoicings  for 
three  days,"  says  Sanuto  the  historian. 

We  saw  the  Mocenigo  Palace,  where  Byron  lived  in  1818. 
We  went  into  the  room  where  he  spent  most  of  his  hours, 
and  where  he  wrote  several  of  his  finest  poems.  The  furni- 
ture remains  just  as  when  he  occupied  the  apartment.  By 
the  window  was  a  large  soft-cushioned  chair,  which  the  cice- 
rone assured  us  was  Byron's  favorite  seat,  overlooking  the 
gay  canal.     There  he  was  wont  to  muse  perhaps  upon 

"The  cold,  the  changed,  perchance  the  dead,  anew  ; 
The  mourned,  the  loved,  the  lost— too  many  !    ye't  how  few  !  " 

In  the  Pisani  Moretta  Palace  we  were  shown  the  picture 
by  Paul  Veronese  (deemed  one  of  his  best),  representing  the 
"  Tent  of  Barius,"  wherein  his  wife  and  children  are  kneeling 
before  Alexander.  There  also  was  the  group  of  Icarus  and 
Doedalus,  by  Canova. 

Passing  many  other  palaces,  we  came  to  the  "  Bridge  of 
the  Kialto,"  made  as  it  were  a  landmark  in  the  history  of 
Venice  by  the  "immortal  bard  of  Avon."  It  is  an  arch, 
marble-cased,  over  the  canal,  joining  the  island  of  the  Kialto 
to  the  island  of  San  Marco.  It  is  very  high  and  wide,  and 
contains  numerous  small  shops,  two  or  three  rows  of  them, 
and  a  passage-way.  Near  this  bridge  was  the  Bivo  Alto, 
where  the  first  Venetians,  flying  from  Attila  the  Hun,  made 
themselves  a  home. 

"  A  few,  in  fear 
Flying  away  from  him  whose  boast  it  was 
That  the  grass  grew  not  where  his  horse  had  trod. 
Gave  birth  to  Venice.     Like  the  water-fowl, 
They  built  their  nests  among  the  ocean-w; 


rtaves. 


In  the  "  olden  time,"  this  Rialto  was  the  great  exchange  of 


238  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

the  merchants;  now  it  is  only  a  place  for  commerce  in  dried 
fish  and  imitation  jewelry.  However,  the  Jews  still  appear 
to  be  its  principal  occupants. 

The  "  Bridge  of  the  Rialto  "  is  the  only  Qce  over  the 
Grand  Canal ;  elsewhere  along  its  margin,  when  one  wishes 
to  cross  they  are  ferried  over  in  gondolas.  We  walked  across, 
and  after  looking  at  the  buildings  around,  continued  on  to  the 
Casa  d^Ora,  a  splendid  palace  ornamented  in  the  Eastern 
style.  It  was  once  entirely  gilded  without,  and  so  was  called 
the  "  Golden  House."  Of  course  the  gilt  has  vanished,  but 
the  name  remains.  It  now  belongs  to  Taglioni,  the  danseuse, 
and  is  quite  restored  to  its  former  magnificence.  It  is  gor- 
geously furnished,  and  decorated  with  pictures  and  fine  statu- 
ary. There  are  several  rooms  and  luxurious  boudoirs  open- 
ing upon  a  terrace  in  the  rear  of  the  Palace,  where  there  is  a 
little  grove  of  orange  and  lemon  trees.  This  terrace  is  two 
or  three  stories  above  the  surface  of  the  Canal. 

Next  we  visited  the  Palazzo  Vendramini,  erected  in 
1483.  It  belongs  to  the  Dutches  de  Berri  at  this  time,  and  is 
reckoned  one  of  the  finest  palaces  in  Venice.-  We  saw  there 
the  portraits  of  all  the  Bourbon  family.  That  of  Louis 
Philippe  was  admirable,  likewise  the  sketch  of  the  Duke  de 
Berri,  taken  by  an  artist  the  morning  of  the  night  when  he 
was  killed  in  Paris.  The  artist  had  long  been  entreating 
him  to  sit  to  him,  but  the  Duke  had  always  found  some 
excuse  for  not  complying.  On  the  morning  of  that  day  he 
suddenly  appeared  in  the  studio  and  gave  the  painter  a  long 
sitting.  When  he  left  him  he  said  gayly,  "u4w  revoir.  At 
twelve  to-morrow  I  shall  be  here  !  "  That  night,  leaving  the 
opera,  he  was  assassinated. 

The  Duchess  is  married  to  a  Sardinian  Count.  She  was 
absent  at  her  chateau  in  Illyria.  Her  portrait  represents 
her  as  a  handsome  woman.     The  Count  de  Chambord,  her 


'   MANFKINI   PALACE.  239 

son  whose  picture  was  among  the  Bourbon  family,  has  a  fine 
intellectual  face. 

Some  of  the  apartments  were  hung  with  embossed  Span- 
ish leather,  gilt,  and  curiously  wrought.  There  were  tables  of 
exquisite  mosaics — armoires  of  ebon}^,  inlaid  with  gold  and 
precious  gems,  multitudes  of  costly  vases  and  graceful  trifles. 

In  the  Palazzo  3Ianfrini  we  saw  a  valuable  collection 
of  paintings  by  the  old  masters.  The  portrait  of  Ariosto,  by 
Titian,  is  wondrously  beautiful,  possessing  a  light  within  the 
eyes  as  though  the  poetic  soul  spoke  from  them.  It  was  very 
like  a  friend  of  mine  in  our  far-distant  home.  There  were 
several  pictures  by  Giorgione,  and  the  Queen  of  Cyprus  by 
Titian;  paintings  by  Cimabue  and  Giotto,  by  Carracci, 
Guido,  and  Sebastian  del  Piombo.  We  only  glanced  at  the 
mass,  reserving  our  especial  attention  for  a  few.  There 
were  portraits  of  Laura  and  of  Petrarch.  Neither  of  them 
was  favorable  to  the  impression  imagination  had  wrought 
upon  my  mind.  Laura's  picture  represented  her  as  neither 
young  or  lovely,  while  Petrarch's  had  the  dissatisfied,  queru- 
lous look  of  an  old  man,  although  he  must  have  been  in  the 
bright  days  of  his  life  when  the  painting  was  made.  The 
gobelin  tapestry  in  several  rooms  was  very  well  preserved,  in 
spite  of  the  hundreds  of  years  that  have  passed  since  the 
noble  family  of  Manfrini  adorned  with  it  their  splendid  halls. 

As  we  were  crossing  a  wide  corridor,  we  looked  from  one 
of  the  windows  into  what  we  imagined  to  be  the  Atrium,  or 
Court  of  the  Palace ;  in  place  of  the  marble  pavement  we  saw 
a  lovely  little  garden  wdth  fairy-like  fountains  and  rare  and 
sweet-breathing  flowers. 

Leaving  the  Grand  Canal  and  turning  into  a  more  narrow 
'•  water-street,"  we  came  to  the  Palazzo  Trevisano,  a  rich 
and  lofty  edifice  of  mingled  Gothic  and  Venetian  styles.  It 
belonged  to  the  Capello  family,  and  was  the  home  of  Bianca, 


240  SOUVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

vrliose  eventful  life  has  been  the  theme  of  novelist  and  poet. 
She  was  gifted  with  "  the  fatal  dower  of  beauty  " — a  beauty 
wild  and  enrapturing  as  that  of  the  fabled  Circe.  Her  parents 
watched  its  gradual  development,  and  built  up  for  her  a 
future  of  even  royal  grandeur;  but  while  they  deemed  her  yet 
a  child,  her  woman's  heart  had  awakened,  and  she  loved 
passionately  the  gay  and  handsome  Pietro  Buonaventura^ 
who  daily  passed  her  father's  palace  to  his  vocation  as  a 
writer  in  the  Bank  of  the  Salviati.  To  those  days,  as  to  our 
own,  may  be  applied  the  homely  Saxon  adage,  "  Where  there 
is  a  will,  there  is  a  way,"  and  often  did  the  fair  Bianca  bribe 
the  porter  of  the  palace-door  to  yield  to  her  the  key.  Then 
she  stole  down  the  marble  steps,  where  her  lover's  gondola 
lay  waiting  in  the  deep  shadow  cast  by  some  neighboring 
balcony,  and  springing  into  it,  glided  over  the  silent  canals, 
until  the  "  fresher  breeze  of  morning  "  gave  token  of  the 
coming  day.  When  returning,  she  crept  gently  to  her  cham- 
ber. For  many  weeks  this  dream  of  love  continued;  but 
at  length  the  "  lordly  father  "  found  an  alliance  worthy  of 
his  "  peerless  daughter,"  and  bade  her  prepare  for  the  nup- 
tials. Great  was  his  wonder,  when  with  tears  of  agony  she 
implored  him  to  refuse  for  her  the  marriage  proposal.  The 
parents  sternly  commanded  compliance  with  their  wishes,  and 
left  her.  When  night  came,  the  wonted  signal  told  her  that 
below  awaited  the  gondola.  For  the  last  time  she  descended 
the  marble  stairway,  aiid  then  away  with  her  lover  over  the 
calm  lagoon  to  the  mainland  fled  the  high-born  Bianca 
Capello,  with  Pietro  Buenaventura,  the  child  of  -the  people. 
But  "  Love  like  Death  levels  ^\\  distinctions."  They  hurried 
on  to  Florence,  where  they  implored  the  protection  of  Fran- 
cisco, son  of  Cosmo  di  Medici.  He  was  young  and  sympa- 
thetic, and  willingly  granted  it,  making  Pietro  an  officer  ot 
his  household,  and  bestowing  high  honors  upon  both  the  fugi- 


NUPTIALS   OF    BIANCA    AND    FRANCISCO.  241 

tives.  The  enraged  father  of  Bianca  renounced  her  forever, 
and  even  induced  the  "  Council  of  Ten  "  to  set  a  price  upon 
the  head  of  Pietro. 

The  sunlight  of  prosperity  served  but  to  reveal  the  dark 
selfishness  of  Buonaventura's  nature,  and  soon  Bianca  dis- 
covered she  had  given  life,  love,  and  hope  to  a  villain.  Then 
came  the  bitterest  and  most  crushing  trial  of  her  woman's 
heart — desertion  by  him  for  whom  she  had  abandoned  pa- 
rents, home,  and  country.  At  last,  in  her  despair,  she  sought 
a  refuge  from  his  scorn  and  neglect  in  the  adoration  of  Fran- 
cisco, over  whom  she  exercised  the  power  of  an  enchantress. 
He  was  perfectly  beneath  her  spell ;  and  when  his  wife,  Jo- 
anna of  Austria,  died  (from  a  broken  heart,  the  result  of  his 
infidelity),  he  married  Bianca  Capello,  and  presented  her  to 
his  court  as  their  queen.  An  ambassador  was  despatched  to 
Venice  to  demand  her,  "  the  Daughter  of  St.  Mark,"  as  his 
consort.  Quickly  were  the  vows  of  vengeance  once  uttered 
by  the  Capelli  forgotten,  and  gracious  was  the  reception  ac- 
corded to  the  envoy  of  Francisco.  A  deputation  accompa- 
nied them  to  Florence,  to  assist  in  the  second  and  public 
nuptials.  The  first  had  been  in  secret.  Pietro  was  mur- 
dered by  some  of  his  reckless  associates,  and  Bianca  became 
the  renowned  beauty  of  Florence,  encircled  by  the  admira- 
tion of  adoring  crowds.  But  there  was  one  whose  evil  eye 
was  upon  her,  Francisco's  uncle,  the  Cardinal  di  Medici. 
Skilled  in  the  deadly  poisons  which  made  that  family  the 
terror  of  Europe,  he  found  means  to  drug  the  drinking-cups 
of  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  and  they  both  perished  within  a 
few  days  of  each  other.  Bianca  Capello  was  buried  privately 
in  the  crypt  of  San  Lorenzo  at  Florence,  her  name  blotted 
from  the  public  archives,  and  the  words  "  the  vile  Bianca  " 
written  in  their  place.  Thus  ended  the  career  of  the  match- 
less and  beautiful  "  Daughter  of  Venice." 
Vol.   I.— 11 


242  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

We  were  deeply  interested  in  her  story,  related  to  us,  as 
we  passed  through  the  desolate  and  crumbling  Palace  of  the 
Capelli,  by  au  aged  Italian  antiquarian  from  Padua,  whom 
we  chanced  to  meet  during  our  wanderings  in  palace  and 
prison.  He  was  an  enthusiast,  possessing  profound  learning, 
and  well  versed  in  the  "  ancient  lore  "  of  the  Republic. 
Greatly  were  we  indebted  to  him  ;  for  he  called  our  atten- 
tion to  objects  of  classic  and  historic  interest,  which  else  we 
might  have  passed  unheeded  by. 

With  the  Palace  of  the  Capelli  ended  our  morning's 
voyage.  The  windows  of  the  dining-room  at  our  hotel 
opened  upon  the  narrow  quai  of  the  Riva  del  Schiavoni, 
where  were  gathered  people  of  many  nations.  A  party  of 
turbaned  Turks  were  seated,  gravely  smoking  their  curious 
pipes  in  profound  silence,  while  near  them,  on  a  small  carpet 
spread  upon  the  pavement,  were  a  set  of  necromancers  and  a 
dark-skinned  Hindoo  swallowing  a  sword,  as  though  it  were 
a  luscious  morsel.  Then  Moors,  Greeks,  Armenians,  and 
Africans — dancers,  singers,  tumblers,  and  organ-grinders; 
besides  guitar-players,  with  their  songs  in  the  soft,  lisping 
Venetian  dialect.  Some  were  quietly  drinking  coffee,  while 
others  were  talking  and  gesticulating  wildly.  What  a  va- 
ried, gay,  and  animated  scene  it  was  !  Almost  with  regret 
we  left  it  for  our  twilight  excursion  along  the  Canal  of  the 
Guidecca,  and  afar  out  into  the  lagoon,  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  Adriatic. 

The  gondola  !  The  gondola  !  Like  the  sweet  breath  of 
violets  comes  to  me,  as  I  write,  the  remembrance  of  the  joy- 
ous hours  spent  within  the  gondola.  It  is  indeed  the  perfec- 
tion of  all  locomotion.  In  it  there  is  delightful  repose,  min- 
gled with  the  consciousness  of  rapid  movement.  A  delicious, 
dreamy  feeling  falls  gently  upon  the  heart,  and  disposes  the 
mind  to  thoughts  of  beauty,  to  thoughts  of  love  and  of  ro- 


OUR  GONDOLA  AND  OUK  GONDOLIER.       243 

mance.  No  longer  can  we  wonder  that  all  the  histories  of 
Venice  are  filled  with  them,  or  that  the  records  of  deep  pas- 
sion there  possess  a  spell  unknown  in  colder  climes.  The 
gondolas  are  long,  sharp  boats,  with  a  cabin  in  the  centre, 
painted  black.  This  contains  two  or  four  seats,  has  windows 
with  lattice-blinds,  and  a  door  which  shuts  one  in  as  com- 
pletely from  the  passers-by  as  though  within  a  private  room 
The  seats  are  large  and  softly  cushioned,  and  the  most  luxu- 
rious of  sensations  is  experienced  as  one  throws  one's  self 
back  upon  them,  and  beholds  palaces,  domes,  turrets,  and 
islands,  glide  by  as  though  they  too  were  floating  upon  the 
waters.  It  is  enrapturing !  like  the  joy  of  a  pleasant  dream, 
when  we  meet  the  dearly-loved  and  long-parted,  we  know  not 
how  nor  where. 

We  had  the  same  gondola  during  all  our  sojourn,  and 
lucky  were  we  in  our  gondolier.  He  was  the  most  pictur- 
esque-looking and  comely  gondolier,  they  told  me,  in  Venice, 
with  his  velvet  jacket,  red  sash,  and  jaunty  cap.  His  name 
was  Augustino,  but  we  always  called  "  Anzoletto ;  "  for  he 
might  have  served  as  the  original  of  the  faithless  lover  of 
gentle  "  Consuelo."  Often  did  we  think  of  her  as  we  passed 
along  the  places  so  eloquently  described  by  that  wonderful 
writer,  Greorge  Sand.  Several  times,  out  upon  the  lagoons, 
we  met  large  parties  in  fleets  of  gondolas  (with  the  black 
cabins  removed).  They  were  gaily  arrayed,  and  all  the 
women  had  long  black  veils  over  their  heads.  They  were 
handsome,  bold-looking  women,  with  large  dark  eyes,  and 
brunettes  in  complexion.  They  were  frequently  singing,  and 
the  voices,  coming  to  us  over  the  sparkling  waters,  had  a  tone 
of  exquisite  melody  ;  although 

"  lu  Venice  Tasso's  echoes  are  no  more, 
And  silent  vows  the  songless  gondolier. 


24:4  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

Her  palaces  are  crumbling  on  the  shore, 
And  music  meets  not  always  now  the  ear ; 
Those  days  are  gone — but  beauty  still  is  here  ; 
States  fall,  arts  fade — but  nature  doth  not  die. 
Nor  yet  forget  that  Venice  once  was  dear. 
The  pleasant  place  of  all  festivity, 
The  revel  of  the  earth,  the  masque  of  Italy !  " 

Augustino  was  quite  intelligent  and  enthusiastic  in  his 
love  of  Venice — at  the  same  time  a  fierce  Republican,  and 
had  fought  in  the  recent  Revolution.  When  we  would  be 
far  out  on  the  lagoon,  beyond  the  all-hearing  ears  of  the 
Austrian  police,  he  would  narrate  to  us,  in  pathetic  language, 
the  efforts  and  the  struggles  of  the  poor  Venetians,  while  all 
the  Powers  of  Europe  calmly  saw  the  spirit  of  Liberty 
trampled  down  and  crushed  by  the  Austrians.  As  we  lis- 
tened to  him,  how  vividly  to  my  memory  came  those  thrilling 
words  of  Byron  : 

"  Thy  love  of  Tasso  should  have  cut  the  knot 
Which  ties  thee  to  thy  tyrants  ;  and  thy  lot 
Is  shameful  to  the  nations  ;  most  of  all, 
Albion,  to  thee  !   The  Ocean  Queen  should  not 
Abandon  Ocean's  children." 

In  the  glorious  days  of  Venice,  it  was  the  custom  to  dec- 
orate the  gondolas  in  the  most  gorgeous  manner.  To  such  an 
extent  was  it  carried,  that  entire  fortunes  were  spent  to 
adorn  them  upon  the  festive  occasions,  when  the  Doge  wed- 
ded the  Adriatic,  or  gave  a  dowry  to  the  brides  of  Venice. 
At  last  the  Senate  passed  an  order  that  they  should  be  paint- 
ed all  black,  and  thus  they  have  continued  ever  since.  The 
only  ornament  permitted  is  a  broad  piece  of  steel,  fastened 
to  the  prow  of  the  gondola ;  it  glitters  in  the  sunlight  like 
one  of  the  famed  Venetian  mirrors,  so  celebrated  for  centu- 
ries.    The  gondoliers,  Augustino  told  us,  prided  themselves 


NIGIIT-VIEW    OF   PIAZZA    SAN    MARCO.  2-15 

upon  having  this  steel  as  beautifully  polished  as  though  it 
were  the  precious  jewel  of  a  queen.  There  are  usually  two 
gondoliers,  and  they  stand  erect,  propelling  the  boat  by  a 
slight  and  graceful  movement  of  the  body. 

When  we  returned  from  the  Guidecca,  it  was  deep  night ; 
dark,  but  gemmed  with  myriads  of  stars.  The  Piazzetta, 
aud  t:long  the  quai,  was  lighted  up  by  dazzling  jets  of  gas. 
These,  reflected  in  the  waters  below,  produced  a  strangely 
brilliant  effect.  It  was  as  though  there  were  a  city  beneath, 
from  whose  windows  streamed  long  rajs  of  light.  The  col- 
umn crowned  by  the  Winged  Lion  of  St.  Mark  was  there, 
and  the  Campanile,  and  the  palace  of  the  Doges.  It  was  a 
gorgeous  sight,  and  a  strange  one. 

We  lauded  and  walked  across  the  Piazzetta  to  the  Piazza 
San  Marco.  We  had  seen  it  several  times  by  day,  but 
wished  now  to  view  it  by  night.  However,  it  was  night 
without  darkness  in  that  renowned  old  place  of  St.  Mark.  A 
perfect  blaze  of  radiance  flooded  the  square,  revealing  its  in- 
numerable pillars,  its  balconies,  and  the  grand  old  Cathedral, 
with  its  mosaics,  and  the  bronzed  steeds,  seeming  from  the 
height  above  as  though  striving  to  spring  down  upon  the 
pavement.  The  piazza  was  filled  with  people,  dressed  in  the 
costumes  of  "  nearly  all  the  nations  of  earth,"  and  the  cafes 
well  thronged.  At  intervals  the  band  of  an  Austrian  regi- 
ment played  fine  selections  from  operas.  When  they  ceased, 
concerts  of  itinerant  musicians  were  heard  in  various  direc- 
tions, and  the  bawling  and  squeaking  of  Polichinelli.  There 
were  numbers  of  bright-eyed  women  walking  with  well- 
dressed  men,  or  sitting  at  small  marble  tables,  eating  ices. 
Although  the  women  have  abandoned  their  national  costume, 
they  still  retain  the  long  veil,  either  of  white  or  of  black 
lace.  This  gives  them  a  picturesque  look,  and  they  have  a 
graceful  way  of  crossing  it  over  the  bosom  (their  dresses  be- 


246  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

ing  rather  decoltee^  low-necked),  "  half  concealing,  half  re- 
vealing,'- the  most  beautiful  busts  I  have  ever  seen.  Their 
hands  and  feet  are  very  small,  possibly  from  the  little  use  they 
make  of  them.  They  seem  a  joyous,  contented  people,  kind 
and  cordial,  satisfied  with  the  present,  and  thoughtless  of  the 
future.  It  was  like  opening  one's  heart  to  the  sunlight  to 
look  upon  this  scene  of  happiness  and  mirth.  The  Venetians, 
in  spite  of  the  tyranny  which  oppresses  them,  appear  content 
with  existence.  Their  delicious  climate  and  natures,  quickly 
alive  to  the  influence  of  pleasure,  may  perhaps  dispel  trouble 
as  soon  as  felt ;  their  faces  certainly  are  irradiated  by  a 
bright  expression  rarely  seen  elsewhere. 

We  passed  several  cafes,  the  constant  resort  of  the 
Greeks,  where  we  stopped  to  admire  their  admirable  and  clas- 
sic contour  of  face  and  form,  their  liquid  eyes  and  noble 
brows,  worthy  to  have  inspired  the  genius  of  Phidias.  After 
drinking  coffee  at  Florian's  (quite  a  famous  cafe),  we  walked 
home  along  the  silent  streets,  so  narrow  they  scarcely  deserve 
the  name  of  street.  They  are  but  winding  alleys,  for  by 
stretching  out  one's  arms,  the  houses  on  either  side  were 
touched.  By  the  side  of  some  of  the  canals  there  is  a  ledge 
about  two  or  three  feet  in  width,  where  persons  may  walk. 
The  bridges  are  very  numerous,  and  are-formed  one  step  above 
the  other  to  the  summit.  They  are  all  made  sufficiently  high 
to  permit  the  gondolas  to  pass  under  them,  save  along  the 
quai  and  the  Piazza  and  Piazzetta.  The  most  intense  silence 
prevails,  and  when  it  is  broken  by  the  voice,  never  elsewhere 
have  I  heard  it  so  loud. 

During  one  of  our  visits  to  an  old  convent,  we  met  a 
courteous  friar,  who  kindly  showed  me,  in  the  ancient  library, 
a  map  or  chart  of  Venice  in  its  earliest  day.  The  numerous 
islands  (seventy-two)  upon  which  it  is  built  are  laid  down  as 
only  little  dots  upon  the  surface  of  the  Adriatic.     What  en- 


FOUNDATION    AND   EARLY    DAYS    OF   VENICE.        247 

ergy  and  industry  were  required  to  rear  a  great  city  upon 
such  a  foundation  !  Long  piles  were  first  driven  deep  into 
tlie  marsh  formed  by  the  debris  brought  down  from  the  Alps 
by  many  rapid  streams.  Within  circles  of  these  piles,  stones 
and  great  rocks,  brought  with  infinite  labor  from  the  main- 
laud,  were  thrown,  thus  slowly  making  small  islands.  Upon 
them  the  fugitives  built  rude  houses  and  churches.  The 
space  between  these  islands  was  cleared  away,  and  the  waters 
of  the  Adriatic  suffered  to  flow  freely  through  them,  forming 
streets  like  canals.  Hence,  the  gondola  was  as  necessary  to 
Venice  as  the  sunlight  to  the  flower,  and  quite  as  much  a 
part  and  portion  of  its  glory  as  are  its  splendid  palaces,  glit- 
teriDg  domes,  and  lofty  towers. 

In  the  first  days  of  Venice  it  was  only  a  fishing  town, 
where  the  terror-stricken  Veueti  fled  from  the  fearful  Hun, 
and  building,  like  the  sea-bird,  their  home  among  the  sedges 
and  rushes  of  the  islets,  they  seemed  endowed  by  Provi- 
dence, ever  "  benignant  and  kind,"  with  a  genius,  and  an 
adaptativeness  to  their  condition,  unprecedented  in  the  annals 
of  the  world.  If  the  Romans  imbibed  strength  and  vigor 
from  the  wolf's  milk,  the  Venetians  certainly  derived  tffeir 
power  and  energy  from  the  stern  poverty  of  their  condition, 
and  the  unceasing  necessity  of  action,  of  toil,  and  of  strug- 
gle. Over  all  the  surroundings  of  a  hard  fortune  they  tri- 
umphed, and  became  the  great  commercial  power  of  Europe. 
Her  ships  were  on  all  the  seas,  and  the  name  of  Venice  was 
never  uttered  except  with  the  words  "glorious  and  rich" 
preceding  it.  From  the  period  of  its  first  creation  by  the 
fugitives  from  the  desolating  power  of  Attila,  until  its  down- 
fall before  the  victorious  Bonaparte,  there  were  thirteen  hun- 
dred years.  First,  there  was  poverty  and  constant  combat 
with  difficulties;  next,  prosperity  and  splendor;  then,  cor- 


24:8  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

ruption  and  treachery,  and  at  last  the  surrender  of  all  power 
into  the  hands  of  strangers  and  hard  masters. 

From  Attila  to  Bonaparte  there  is  a  long  array  of  glorious 
names,  which  still  light  up  the  pages  of  history,  and  can 
never  grow  dim  while  the  love  for  Shakspeare,  for  Byron, 
for  Schiller,  for  Dante,  and  for  Tasso,  have  a  home  and  hold 
upon  the  human  heart.  They  have  perpetuated  the  noble 
deeds,  and  graven  upon  the  soul  the  impassioned  romance,  of 
its  people : 

"  Ours  is  a  trophy  which  will  not  decay 
With  the  Rialto ;  Shylock  and  the  Moor, 
And  Pierre,  can  not  be  swept  or  worn  away, 
The  Keystones  of  the  Arch !    Though  all  were  o'er, 
For  us  repeopled  were  the  solitary  shore." 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

The  cliurches  of  Venice  are  exceedingly  numerous,  of  dif- 
ferent styles  of  architecture,  from  the  Gothic  to  the  modern 
Italian.  Those,  however,  built  by  the  great  Palladio  are 
by  far  the  most  magnificent.  Venice,  styled  by  an  old  Italian 
author  "  The  Rome  of  Northern  Italy,"  almost  equals  the 
"  Holy  City  "  in  the  number  and  splendor  of  its  temples  to 
religion.  They  are  richly  decorated,  filled  with  works  of 
art,  and  monuments  so  costly,  the  wealth  of  entire  families 
was  often  needed  to  rear  them.  Then,  about  the  altars  ^re 
scattered  precious  jewels  and  vessels  of  gold,  while  above 
them  are  the  paintings  of  Titian,  of  Paul  Veronese,  of  Pal- 
ma,  Vecchio,  and  other  artists,  not  so  dear  to  me  as  those  be- 
fore whose  pictures  we  lingered  long  and  admiringly. 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  when  a  signal  blessing  of  the  good 
Grod  had  been  granted  to  a  people,  they  gave  expression  to 
their  gratitude  by  erecting  some  noble  edifice,  dedicated  to 
his  everlasting  worship.  Thus  was  built  the  Maria  della 
Salute^  m  1682,  by  the  decree  of  the  Senate,  after  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  great  Plague,  when  sixty  thousand  of  the  inhab- 
itants died.  It  is  a  circular  church,  with  a  lofty  dome,  sus- 
tained by  columns,  and  in  the  recesses  are  eight  chapels, 
adorned  with  valuable  pictures  and  statuary. 
Vol.  I— 11* 


250  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

The  Church  of  the  Jesuits,  built  in  1728,  quite  a  modem 
structure,  is  gorgeous  and  splendid  in  the  extreme.  The 
pillars  are  of  white  marble,  with  verd  antique  inlaid  on  their 
surface,  to  represent  the  leaves  of  a  vine  climbing  up  them. 
The  altar  has  columns  of  verd  antique  cut  out  of  a  solid 
block,  and  above  it  the  "  Martyrdom  of  San  Lorenzo,"  by- 
Titian.  Just  in  front  of  the  altar  is  a  slab,  marking  the 
re>ting-place  of  Manin,  the  last  Doge  of  Venice,  who,  when 
he  was  called  upon  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  Austria, 
fell  senseless  upon  the  ground.  It  was  his  descendant, 
Manin,  who  in  1848  and  '49  so  gallantly  strove  to  recover 
the  lost  liberties  of  the  Republic. 

The  Church  of  the  Santissimo  Redeniore  is  upon  the 
Island  of  the  Guidecca,  just  vis-a-vis  to  the  Palace  of  the 
Doges.  It  is  also  an  ex-voto  (a  thanksgiving)  for  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  plague  in  1576,  and  is  one  of  the  finest  struc- 
tures of  Palladio. 

The  Church  of  San  Giovanni  e  Paolo  has  the  monu- 
ment of  the  Doge  Vendramin,  deemed  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  in  Venice,  and  also  contains  the  famous  "  Mar- 
tyrdom of  St.  Peter,"  by  Titian,  said  to  be  the  third  picture 
in  the  world  in  point  of  excellence  and  touching  beauty. 
This  painting  was  considered  so  precious  that  the  Senate 
issued  a  decree  forbidding  the  Dominicans,  the  Monks  of 
that  Church,  to  sell  it  on  penalty  of  death.  This  Basilica 
of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul  is  quite  the  "Westminster  of  Venice. 
There  are  multitudes  of  tombs  of  the  haughty  Doges  and 
noble  Patricians.  Even  to  the  grave  was  carried  the  love 
of  splendor  which  characterized  them  in  life.  In  front  of 
the  Church,  in  a  little  square,  is  the  bronze  equestrian  statue 
of  Colleoni,  the  General  who  first  introduced  the  use  of 
cannon  on  the  field  of  battle :  before,  they  had  only  been 
used  in  batteries. 


PAUL  VERONESE VENETIAN  CHURCHES.     251 

San  Sabastiano  has  a  noble  fagade  by  Sansovino.  It  is 
the  burial  place  of  Paul  Veronese  (the  great  painter). 
There  is  only  a  bust  of  him  over  his  grave,  but  a  glorious 
monument  to  him  exists  in  the  creations  of  his  genius,  which 
are  seen  in  the  marvellous  pictures,  hanging  over  the  altars 
and  in  the  great  dome,  painted  by  his  hand.  It  was  a  happy 
thought  to  make  his  last  resting-place  in  the  midst  of  the 
glowing  productions  of  his  genius. 

The  Santa  Maria  Formosa  is  a  fine  Church  of  the  four- 
teenth century.  It  is  interesting  from  having  been  the  scene 
of  the  incidents  related  concerning  "  The  Brides  of  Venice." 
These  circumstances  occurred  in  994,  on  the  evu  of  St. 
Mary,  when,  as  was  the  Venetian  custom, 

"  The  noblest  sons  and  daughters  of  the  state, 
Whose  names  are  written  in  the  book  of  gold, 
Were  on  that  day  to  solemnize  their  nuptials." 

All  assembled  in  the  Church,  likewise  twelve  young  girls, 
the  most  virtuous  and  beautiful  of  the  poorer  classes,  en- 
dowed by  the  state  with  marriage  portions,  and  given  by 
the  Doge  himself  to  their  lovers.  Just  when  the  nuptial 
benediction  was  being  pronounced  by  the  patriarchy  the 
doors  burst  open,  and  an  armed  band  of  pirates,  who  had 
lain  the  preceding  night  in  ambush  behind  the  island,  fell 
upon  the  astonished  and  aflfrighted  throng.  They  were  led 
on  by  the  terrible  Barharo,  and  his  six  brothers,  clad  in 
armor.  They  seized  the  maidens  and  caskets  of  jewels, 
which  were  to  be  their  dowry,  and  fled  with  them  to  their 
boats,  and  then  set  sail  for  Istria. 

"Freighted,  alas!  with  all  that  life  endears, 
The  richest  argosies  were  poor  to  them." 


252  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

The  frantic  bridegrooms,  with  the  Doge  at  their  head,  quick- 
ly armed  and  followed  them,  and  overtaking  the  pirates  near 
the  Island  of  Friuli^  where  they  were  dividing  their  booty, 
they  brought  back  the  brides  of  Venice  in  triumph  to  their 
homes.  The  pirates  of  the  "  Adriatic,"  although  as  dar- 
ing as  the  founder  of  the  "  eternal  city,"  met  not  with  the 
same  success,  until  the  last  years  of  the  Republic.  On  the 
anniversary  of  that  day,  a  gilded  barge,  with  twelve  virgins 
clad  in  bridal  robes,  with  long  veils,  glided  along  the  grand 
canal  under  the  Kialto  up  to  the  Ducal  Palace,  where  a 
banquet  was  served  for  them — "  The  Brides  of  Venice." 
An  old  Venetian  historian  describes  the  spectacle  as  one  of 
gorgeous  splendor.  The  palaces  along  the  canals  were  all 
hung  with  rich  draperies  of  velvet  and  gold;  the  balco- 
nies and  roofs  crowded  with  spectators,  and  the  very  at- 
mosphere resounding  with  music  and  songs  of  joy. 

Glorious  old  Venice  !  Truly  beautiful  are  these  memo- 
ries of  thy  prime !  *  How  difficult  it  was  to  leave  the  dingy 
old  quarto,  in  which  I  read  this  description.  Even  the  aged 
monk  exclaimed  :  "  Ah,  Signora  !  you  should  pass  months 
here.  You  seem  to  love  the  ancient  glory  of  our  Republic." 
This  was  in  the  library  of  the  "  Frari,"  where  I  spent  seve- 
ral hours.  The  convent  buildings  have  been  devoted  to 
the  archives  of  the  Venetian  State,  and  nowhere  in  Venice 
was  I  more  impressed  with  the  power  once  hers,  than  in 
these  myriad  records  of  her  grandeur.  There  are  nearly 
two  hundred  rooms  and  galleries,  walled  in  with  books  from 
floor  to  ceiling.  Often  were  we  lost  in  this  labyrinth,  and 
but  for  our  old  priest  we  should  have  experienced  difficulty 
in  finding  our  way  out.  Never  have  I  met  more  kindness 
and  consideration  than  among  the  difi"erent  religious  frater- 
nities in  Italy.  They  appear  well  informed  and  learned- 
men,  and  were   always  willing,  nay  solicitous,  to  show  us  all 


MONUMENTS    OF   TITIAN    AND    CANOVA.  253 

the  pictures  and  records  of  their  churches.  The  priest,  who 
was  the  keeper  of  the  library,  pointed  out  to  me  many  works 
of  inestimable  value,  and  even  permitted  me  to  read  portions 
of  them. 

The  Church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Frari  is  most  conse- 
crated ground,  for  it  contains  the  dust  of  Titian,  and  also  of 
Canova.  It  was  built  about  1250,  and  is  rich  in  pictures, 
statues,  bas  reliefs,  and  inlaid  work  of  costly  marbles.  Ti- 
tian died  of  the  plague  in  the  year  1575,  aged  ninety-nine 
years.  It  was  the  custom  to  take  all  the  bodies  of  those 
who  died  of  that  disease  to  the  main  shore,  where  they  were 
cast  into  one  common  grave;  but  the  Senate  commanded 
that  Titian  should  be  buried  near  the  grand  altar,  where  a 
simple  tablet  for  centuries  alone  indicated  the  spot.  Upon  it 
were  engraved  these  words  : 

"  Here  lies  the  great  Titian, 
Rival  of  Zeuxis  and  Apelles." 

But  now  a  noble  monument  has  been  erected  to  his  honor 
by  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  I.  It  is  of  Parian  and  Carrara 
marble,  and  has  many  emblematic  groups.  There  is  a  por- 
trait of  Titian,  supported  by  two  figures  representing  the 
past  and  the  present  centuries.  Sculptured  in  bas  relief  are 
several  of  Titian's  most  famous  pictures.  Immediately  oppo- 
site to  this  monument  is  that  of  Canova,  the  world-famed 
sculptor.  He  drew  the  design  of  a  tomb,  intending  it 
should  be  the  monument  of  Titian ;  but  instead,  it  was  ap- 
propriated to  himself.  The  homage  of  many  nations  mani- 
fested itself  in  the  contributions.  England,  France,  and 
Germany  sent  their  portions,  and  even  America  gave  a  small 
amount.  The  monument  is  a  great  pyramid  of  Carrara 
marble,  with  a  tomb  within  it.  Into  the  doorway  various 
allegorical  mourners  are  entering.     Their  heads  are  bowed, 


254  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

and  each  bears  in  his  hands  some  tribute  to  the  wonderful 
talent  of  Canova. 

The  monument  of  the  Doge  Foscari,  deposed  by  the  Vene- 
tians, came  next.  It  was  erected  by  his  grandson,  the  son  of 
the  unhappy  Giacomo,  who  perished  in  exile.  It  is  grand  and 
simple.  Within  a  niche  is  a  figure  with  clasped  hands,  reclining 
as  though  asleep,  upon  a  sarcophagus.  At  his  feet  and  head 
are  two  soldiers,  standing  erect  as  sentinels  over  his  repose. 
It  was  this  Doge  Foscari  who  asked  as  a  last  favor  of  those 
who  forced  him  to  abdicate,  that  he  should  be  permitted  to 
descend  the  "  Giant's  Staircase  "  in  his  robes  of  dignity  and 
office.  As  he  was  slowly  and  sadly  walking  down  them,  the 
great  bells  of  Saint  Mark  rang  out  resounding  peals  at  the 
election  of  his  successor.  The  old  man  paused  and  listened, 
then  fell  senseless  upon  the  pavement.  The  next  day  he  died, 
his  heart  bursting  in  the  struggle  between  pride  and  grief. 

A  short  distance  from  this  memorial  is  the  monument  of 
Doge  Nicolo  Tron,  who  died  in  1472.  It  is  a  stupendous 
structure,  near  eighty  feet  high.  It  is  composed  of  many 
stories,  ornamented  with  colossal  figures,  bas  reliefs,  and  a 
statue  of  the  Nicolo  himself,  who  was  once  a  ^reat  merchant, 
and  afterwards  the  Doge. 

The  monument  of  the  Doge  Pesaro  is  very  singular.  It 
has  many  columns  of  great  height,  resting  upon  the  shoulders 
of  immense  statues,  representing  negroes,  or  Moors,  of  black 
marble.  The  figures  are  dressed  in  white,  and  have  thick 
lips  and  woolly  heads.  Through  several  rents  in  their  gar- 
ments the  black  skin  peeps,  out.  It  is  a  very  curious  con- 
ceit of  the  artist,  and  there  are  skeletons  of  bronze,  holding  a 
sepulchral  urn,  and  serpents  and  scrolls  and  dragons.  In 
the  midst  of  all  these  horrors  the  Doge  is  sitting.  There 
surely  was  never  a  greater  expenditure  with  a  worse  result. 

We  visited  many  other  Churches  and  Scuole,  (benevolent 


ARMENIAN   CONVENT — ARSENAL.  '255 

institutions,)  where  we  saw  multitudes  of  pictures  by  Tinto- 
retto, Bellini,  and  artists  of  less  reputation.  Then  we  direct- 
ed Augustine  to  take  us  to  the  house  of  Groldoni,  the  dramatic 
author,  whose  comedies  had  so  often  greatly  amused  me.  It 
is  quite  a  lofty  house,  although  in  a  narrow  street,  and  has  a 
tablet  over  the  door  telling  it  was  his  place  of  birth.  Then 
we  glided  by  the  house  of  Othello,  now  a  miserable  and 
crumbling  mansion,  and  on  to  the  "  Priuli  Palace,"  made 
famous  by  Otway's  tragedy  of  "  Pierre  and  Jaffier."  The 
house  of  Titian  we  saw  next,  and  the  house  where  Petrarch 
lived  when  in  Venice. 

As  the  afternoon  was  delightful  we  went  over  to  the 
"  Lido,"  an  island  with  a  hard  beach,  where  Byron  came  often 
to  ride  at  evening.  He  kept  his  horse  there,  building  a  sta- 
ble on  the  sands  for  him.  The  green  waves  of  the  Adriatic 
were  rolling  in,  crested  with  white  foam,  and  the  breeze  blew 
freshly  from  the  Dalmatian  coast,  while  afar  off  was  Venice, 
floating  as  it  were  in  a  sea  of  golden  light,  a  perfect  halo 
lingering  around  its  domes  and  its  Winged  Lion  of  Saint 
Mark. 

The  Armenian  Convent  is  upon  an  island  near  by.  The 
monks  are  exceedingly  intelligent  and  learned  men.  It  was 
there  Byron  went  to  acquire  the  Eastern  languages.  The 
library  is  of  great  extent,  and  contains  Oriental  manuscripts 
of  rare  value.  On  the  island  of  San  Servolo  is  the  Mad- 
House  ;  at  the  windows  were  standing  shadowy-looking  forms 
with  pallid  faces. 

The  Arsenal  is  of  vast  extent,  and  near  the  Porto  Leone  ; 
at  the  entrance  are  the  lions,  brought  from  the  Morea  by 
Morosini.  From  an  inscription  engraven  upon  the  shoulder 
of  one  of  the  lions,  it  would  appear  they  were  memorials  of 
the  battle  of  Marathon,  and  must  have  attained  the  venerable 
age  of  twenty-three  hundred  years.     In  the  Armory  was  the 


266  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

helmet  of  Attila,  the  Hud,  and  tattered  banners  captured 
from  many  natiops.     Those  brought  back  by 

"  blind  old  Dandolo  ! 
The  octogenarian  chief,  Byzantium's  conquering  foe," 

had  an  especial  interest.  Henry  Dandolo  was  made  Doge 
when  he  was  eighty-five  years  old,  in  1192.  He  led  the  attack 
upon  Constantinople,  and  was  the  first  to  rush  into  the  city ; 
thus  realizing,  said  the  Venetians,  the  prophecy  of  the 
"  Erythraean  Sibyl,"  which  ran  thus  :  "  A  gathering  to- 
gether of  the  powerful  shall  be  made  amidst  the  waves  of  the 
Adriatic,  under  a  blind  leader." 

The  model  of  the  Bucentoro  (the  Bucentaur)  is  in  the 
Arsenal.  When  the  French  captured  Venice  they  made 
great  destruction,  and  burnt  the  Bucentaur,  which  was 
always  kept  there.  It  was  only  taken  out  once  each  year, 
when  the  Doge  wedded  the  Adriatic.  This  ceremony  was  of 
great  antiquity,  and  consisted  in  a  grand  pageant,  while  the 
immense  barge,  rowed  by  two  hundred  oarsmen,  carried  the 
Doge  beyond  the  Lido,  where  he  espoused  the  Adriatic  by 
casting  a  ring  into  the  waters.  The  marriage  was  deemed 
an  assertion  of  the  dominion  of  the  republic  over  the  sea. 

There  was  a  time  when  the  Arsenal  fitted  out  the  great- 
est fleets  in  the  world.  Sixteen  thousand  men  were  often 
occupied  within  its  walls.  Dante  visited  the  Arsenal  in  those 
days,  and  he  has  perpetuated  its  fame  by  drawing  from  it 
illustrations  for  his  "  Inferno."  The  cauldrons  of  boiling 
pitch,  the  fires  beneath  them,  and  the  caulking  of  the  enor- 
mous ships,  are  invested  by  him  with  a  charm  it  would  be 
deemed  impossible  to  confer  upon  objects  so  unpoetic.  His 
genius  was  like  the  rays  of  a  Venetian  sunset,  casting  a 
bright  and  glorious  radiance  around  every  object  it  touches, 

A   beautiful  work  of  Canova's  is  there — the  monument 


LAST   EVENING    IN    VENICE.  257 

of  Angelo  Emo,  one  of  the  last  great  men  of  the  republic. 
He  was  an  admiral  in  her  navy,  and  commanded  in  the  war 
with  the  Barbary  powers.  As  a  member  of  the  fearful 
"  Council  of  Ten,"  his  voice  was  always  raised  in  pleading 
for  the  wretched  criminals.  Canova  refused  to  receive  any 
compensation  for  this  work,  although  the  Senate  insisted  upon 
giving  him  a  pension. 

As  we  were  incessantly  upon  the  canals,  or  out  on  the 
lagoons,  we  often  heard  the  gondoliers  singing,  in  a  very 
unmusical  tone,  it  must  be  confessed.  We  asked  Augus- 
tino  if  they  sang  now  the  "  Verses  of  Tasso;  "  but  he  replied, 
"  Ah  !  no,  Signora.  The  songs  of  Tasso  were  written  for  a 
free  people,  and  we  are  only  slaves  !  "  The  Venetians  are 
very  fond  of  calling  Tasso  their  countryman,  claiming  him 
as  such,  because  he  was  educated  partly  in  Venice  and  partly 
in  Padua.  His  father  was  born  there,  but  Torquato's  birth- 
place was  Sorrento,  near  Naples. 

Our  last  evening  in  Venice  we  devoted  to  an  ''  entire 
voyage  "  around  the  city  ;  beginning  at  the  Riva  del  Schia- 
voni,  passing  through  the  Canale  di  San  Marco,  in  front  of 
the  public  gardens,  established  by  the  French,  (and  there- 
fore not  a  favorite  resort  of  the  Venetians  ;)  then  up  the 
Canal  di  Casiello,  by  the  castle  of  San  Fietro,  on  to  the 
manufacturing  village  of  Mestre  ;  then  to  the  Canal  Grande, 
the  main  artery  to  the  "  heart  of  Venice,"  the  Piazza  di 
San  Marco.  We  directed  the  cabin  of  the  gondola  to  be 
removed,  that  our  eyes  might  banquet  for  the  last  time  upon 
the  exquisite  view.  To  no  other  city  in.  the  world  can 
Venice  be  compared.  It  is  alone  and  peerless  in  its  beauty. 
Enthusiasm  flames  up  from  the  soul  at  the  recollection  of 
those  glorious  days  when  the  "  Ocean  Queen  "  was 

"  The  Planter  of  the  Lion,  which  through  fire 
And  blood  she  bore  o'er  subject  earth  and  sea ;  " 


258  80UVENIE8    OF   TRAVEL. 

then  a  tender  pity  possesses  the  heart  at  her  downfall  and 
her  decay. 

Reclining  u^n  the  luxurious  cushions  of  the  gondola,  I 
read  aloud  to  Octavia  the  thrilling  tragedy  of  "  The  Two 
Foscari."  Under  the  influences  of  the  very  scenes  therein 
described,  it  is  not  wonderful  we  both  felt  it  had  a  charm 
beyond  even  the  usual  spell  of  Byron's  poetry. 

Leaving  the  busy  throng  along  the  Fiazetta,  we  glided 
under  the  "  Bridge  of  Sighs,"  with  its  dark  shadow  falling 
like  a  funeral  drapery  over  the  canal,  to  the  wide  Giudecca^ 
where  we  told  the  gondoliers  "  to  rest  upon  their  oars,"  as 
we  floated  slowly  over  the  waters.  We  watched  the  sun  go 
down  over  the  distant  Alps,  while  from  the  horizon's  verge 
upward  streamed  long  rays  of  light,  as  though  they  were 
gorgeous  banners  in  the  sky.     It  really  seemed 

"  As  day  and  night  contending  were,  until 
*  Nature  reclaimed  her  order." 

And  darkness  came,  and  with  it  the  illumination  above  and 
below  the  Grand  Canal.  Long  we  lingered,  gazing  upon 
the  scene,  as  though  to  stamp  for  ever  on  the  mind  the  im- 
pressions of  that  evening  in  Venice  ;  they  cannot  pass  away, 
for  upon  memory  they  are  painted  with  a  pencil  of  light, 
and  treasured  within  the  heart  as  a  sweet  and  precious  joy. 
Truly  could  I  exclaim,  with  my  farewell  look,  among 

"  The  happiest  moments  which  were  wrought 
Within  the  web  of  my  existence,  some 
From  thee,  fair  Venice,  have  their  colors  caught  !  " 

In  parting  from  the  "  City  of  the  Sea,"  I  feel  the  certainty 
in  coming  years  we  shall  meet  again. 


CHAPTEE    XXYIII. 

By  the  morning  train  we  left  Venice,  and  were  therefore 
compelled  to  be  at  the  dogana  at  an  early  hour.  Our  good 
Augustino,  who  had  been  constantly  attending  us  during 
our  stay  there,  accompanied  us.  The  poor  gondolier  had  a 
warm  and  kind  heart,  and  was  so  deeply  grateful  to  us,  we 
could  not  part  with  him  without  regret,  earnestly  wishing 
we  were  enabled  to  take  him  to  our  free  country,  where  his 
real  nobility  of  nature  might  be  appreciated. 

Our  friends  of  the  Austrian  police  were  still  exacting, 
passing  through  the  routine  of  our  arrival.  As  an  especial 
favor  they  permitted  us  to  take  away  some  ancient  lace, 
"  Point  de  Venise,"  and  beads  from  Murano  ;  but  they  re- 
tained a  revolver^  which  R.  had  unhappily  brought  with  him 
from  Texas.  It  required  all  my  diplomatic  talent  to  con- 
vince the  commanding  officer  that  it  was  not  intended  for 
murderous  purposes,  or  to  incite  a  revolution,  but  only  a 
usual  accompaniment  of  an  American,  travelling  in  his  own 
country,  and,  through  ignorance  of  Austrian  laws,  continued 
here.  The  officers  on  guard  had  never  seen  before  a  "  Colt's 
Revolver,"  so  they  all  gathered  around  it,  and  sent  for  one 
of  their  comrades,  who  had  been  at  the  world's  fair  in  Lou- 
don, who  explained  the  intricacies  of  this  instrument  of  death 


i 


260  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

to  the  delighted  crowd.  Then  an  officer  was  ordered  to  take 
it  to  the  governor  of  Venice,  and  obtain  his  decision  con- 
cerniDg  its  destination.  In  a  short  time  he  came  back,  in- 
forming us  the  governor  had  commanded  it  to  be  placed  in 
the  armory,  until  the  American  consul  should  demand  it ;  so 
we  left  the  unfortunate  revolver,  and  were  soon  moving 
slowly  over  the  long  viaduct,  upon  which  is  laid  the  railway. 

At  3Iestre  we  looked  our  last  upon  Venice.  Its  columns, 
spires,  and  turrets,  were  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  but  the 
scene  had  not  for  us  the  touching  charm  of  the  preceding 
night.  There  seems  a  soft,  sad  sympathy  between  evening 
and  Venice,  for  the  day  of  her  glory  has  departed,  while  the 
softness  of  twilight  still  lingers. 

At  "  substantial,  sober,  learned  "  Padua,  we  tarried  only 
to  change  the  cars,  and  then  on  to  Vicenza  and  Verona, 
where  we  took  the  diligence,  and  travelled  on  by  Peschiera, 
and  aloug  the  shores  of  the  Lago  di  Garda  to  Brescia.  As 
we  found  there  a  diligence  going  up  to  the  "  Lake  of  Idro," 
we  seized  the  opportunity  of  visiting  those  romantic  scenes, 
so  sweetly  described  by  Italian  poets.  It  was  night  when 
we  started,  but  when  morning  came,  we  were  delighted  with 
the  scenery,  and  the  fertile  country,  and  the  pretty  little  vil- 
lages. Often  and  often,  by  the  road-side,  we  saw  a  humble 
shrine,  with  a  Virgin  rudely  sculptured  within  it,  and  peasants 
kneeling  before  it.  At  night  there  was  a  lamp  frequently 
placed  in  a  niche,  which  shone  afar  off  like  a  star.  Our 
route  was  one  little  travelled,  and  hence  at  the  sound  of  our 
approach  the  people  ran  from  their  small  cottages  to  look 
upon  us.  They  are  more  healthy  and  robust  than  those  we 
met  near  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  and  the  women  were  very 
comely,  with  their  hair  twisted  up  in  a  large  knot,  and  im- 
mense pins  run  through  it. 

The  morning  was  fresh  and  delightful,  and  the  bifds  were 


ROCCO   d'anFO ISEO.  261 

"  singing  merrily  "  in  every  grove  through  which  we  passed. 
We  breakfasted  at  Idro,  (the  ancient  Edrinus,)  and  drove 
along  the  shores  of  the  lake  to  Rocco  d'Anfo,  a  fortress  built 
upon  the  summit  of  a  perpendicular  cliiF,  rising  like  a  battle- 
ment from  the  margin  of  the  lake.  The  first  victory  of  the 
French  in  1796  was  achieved  there.  Before  that  battle  the 
Austrians  had  checked  the  triumphant  progress  of  Napoleon 
at  the  head  of  the  soldiers  of  the  republic.  This  fortress, 
crowning  the  lofty  rampart,  recalled  to  us  vividly  the  "  cas- 
tellated peaks  "  overhanging  the  beautiful  Rhine. 

From  Bocco  d'Anfo  we  crossed  the  country  to  Iseo,  said 
to  have  taken  its  name  from  the  Temple  of  Isis,  which  once 
existed  there.  It  is  on  the  margin  of  the  Lake  of  Iseo,  (the 
Lacus  Sexinus  of  the  Romans.)  The  scenery  is  very  lovely 
with  villas,  towers,  and  old  castles,  built  up  during  the  wars 
of  the  Guelphs  and  the  Grhibellines.  The  histories  of  many 
of  these  are  full  of  the  daring  deeds  of  their  owners,  and  of 
the  sieges  they  sustained  ere  they  yielded. 

As  we  journeyed  in  true  Italian  fashion,  (very  slowly,)  we 
had  time  sufficient  to  admire  the  town  of  Lovere,  where  Lady 
Mary  Wortley  Montague  lived  for  some  months.  In  her 
letters  to  her  daughter  she  described  the  spot  as  a  "  miracle 
of  beauty."  However,  we  did  not  find  it  to  equal  Como,  or 
Maggiore,  although  there  are  many  views  from  the  cliffs  ex- 
ceedingly picturesque.  We  were  gratified  in  seeing  the 
peasant-life  remote  from  large  cities.  The  variety  of  dia- 
lects met  in  our  journey  was  very  singular;  every  village 
and  town  appeared  to  have  its  peculiar  patois.  Thus  we 
counted,  between  Venice  and  Milan,  at  least  twenty ;  not  one 
resembling  the  other  in  the  slightest  degree.  The  Venetian 
dialect  is  sweet  and  soft,  but  the  remainder  are  harsh  and 
disagreeable,  especially  that  of  the  Bergamese. 

From  Lovere  we  went  on  through  mulberry  plantation^  and 


262  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

vineyards,  all  touched  by  the  malatia,  a  malady  of  the  vine, 
as  disastrous  to  these  people  as  the  disease  of  the  potato  to 
the  Irish;  for  heretofore  the  wine,  though  weak  and  poor,  was 
the  great  luxury  of  the  inhabitants.  We  soon  reached  Ber- 
gamo, a  handsome  city,  with  a  population  of  thirty  thousand 
souls,  with  many  manufactories  of  silk,  and  fine  churches.  The 
situation  of  the  town  is  admirable — on  a  hill,  which  it  seems 
to  crown  with  its  domes  and  towers.  There  is  an  excellent 
statue  of  Tasso,  in  Carrara  marble,  in  one  of  the  palaces. 

We  only  remained  a  short  time  at  Bergamo,  then,  by 
giving  an  extra  buona  mano  to  the  postillion,  he  quickened 
the  pace  of  our  horses,  and  brought  us  in  time  to  take  the 
afternoon  train  on  the  railway  from  Treviglio  to  Milan.  In 
a  few  hours  we  reached  there,  and  hastened  to  the  pleasant 
"  Hotel  de  Ville."  It  had  been  our  purpose  to  depart  at 
once  for  Genoa,  but  the  diligence  had  gone  only  one  hour 
before  our  arrival ;  thus  we  were  forced  to  take  another  route, 
leaving  at  three  o'clock  in  the  moraing.  In  spite  of  my 
fatigue  I  ran  out  to  look  once  more  upon  the  splendid  Cathe- 
dral, and  returning,  found  Octavia  already  asleep.  Deeming 
it  a  perfect  act  of  heroism  to  arise  so  long  before  the  dawn,  I 
concluded  to  busy  myself  in  recording  the  incidents  of  our 
journey  from  Venice  in  my  journal,  and  thus  be  up  and  wait- 
ing when  the  hour  came.  Half-past  two  has  just  sounded 
from  the  clock  near  by,  so  I  must  summon  the  sleepers  from 
the  dream-world,  to  the  far  less  agreeable  realities  of  the 
present. 

It  was  dark  night  when  we  left  Milan,  by  the  Porta  Ti- 
cinese,  and  drove  directly  along  the  bank  of  the  "  Canal  of 
Pavia,"  which  leads  from  that  city  through  the  plain  of 
Lombardy  to  the  river  Adda.  By  daylight  we  had  reached 
Biuasco,  where  we  stopped  to  change  horses;  and  I  walked 
aroiiiid    the  old  castle  where  the  beautiful   Beatrice  delta 


KICE    PLANTATIONS CERTOSA    OF    PAVIA.  263 

Tenia  was  beheaded  by  her  cruel  husband,  in  1418,  because 
the  stars  had  foretold  she  would  become  his  destroyer.  With- 
in the  castle  is  the  shield  of  the  Visconti,  with  their  emblem, 
a  terrible  serpent,  called  Biscia. 

Until  the  sun  arose  we  had  kept  the  glass  windows  down, 
fearing  the  malaria  from  the  rice  plantations,  which  are 
several  feet  below  the  level  of  the  road ;  they  have  canals 
running  north  and  south,  east  and  west,  intercepting  each 
other  with  the  precise  regularity  of  the  streets  of  Philadel- 
phia. The  squares  between  the  canals  are  planted  with  rice. 
As  it  was  the  harvest-time,  it  had  a  rich,  yellow  color,  and 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  peasants  were  gathering  it;  the 
men  cut  it  down,  and  the  women  gathered  it  in  great  baskets, 
strapped  across  their  shoulders  ;  then,  wading  up  to  their 
knees  in  mud  and  water,  upon  which  the  rice  appears  to 
grow,  they  threw  it  into  large  boats,  rowed  by  the  old  women 
and  children.  The  appearance  of  these  poor  creatures  was 
absolutely  pitiable.  They  had  precisely  the  complexions  of 
the  "  Dirt-Eaters  "  of  the  pine  swamps  of  the  South,  and 
were  like  spectres  wandering  through  the  death-infected  dis- 
trict. The  cultivation  of  the  rice  is  deemed  extremely  un- 
healthy, and  only  in  certain  portions  of  the  plain  is  it  per- 
mitted. At  the  Sardinian  frontier,  where  we  were  compelled 
to  remain  some  hours,  the  attaches  of  the  police  told  me  the 
whole  family  who  had  inhabited  the  post-house  had  died 
within  one  month.  The  disease  prevalent  is  a  chill,  return- 
ing every  third  day,  until  it  ends  in  death.  They  seem  to 
have  no  remedy  for  it,  except  in  flying  from  the  spot. 

Near  Pavia  is  the  most  celebrated  of  monasteries,  called 
the  "  Certosa  of  Pavia,"  erected  by  Giovanni  Visconti,  the 
first  Duke  of  Milan,  as  an  expiation  of  his  crimes,  in  1396. 
It  is  embellished  with  splendid  works  of  art,  and  has  a  rich 
collection  of  pictures.     It  is  said  that  the  finest  sculptors  of 


264  soinrENiRS  of  travel. 

.Italy  were  for  several  centuries  occupied  carving  monuments 
for  its  chapels.  Near  the  Certosa  was  fought  the  battle  in 
which  Francis  I.  was  taken  prisoner ;  upon  that  memorable 
occasion  he  uttered  the  exclamation,  which  has  become  al- 
most as  a  household  world — "  All  lost  but  honor  !  " 

Pavia  la  Dotta  (Pavia  the  learned)  is  thus  styled  from 
the  renowned  university  established  in  774  by  Charlemagne, 
and  even  now  containing  a  thousand  students.  Its  medical 
schools  are  much  frequented.  Pavia  was  the  capital  of  the 
Lombard  kings.  The  palace  of  Visconti,  the  friend  and 
patron  of  Petrarch,  is  still  standing ;  it  was  built  about  1460, 
and  is  described  by  the  poet  in  glowing  terms.  We  were 
pointed  out  the  tower  in  which  Boethius,  the  author  of  the 
"  Consolations  of  Philosophy,"  was  confined  by  Theoderic. 

We  wandered  about  the  city  until  our  postillion  had 
changed  his  horses,  (at  least  two  hours  he  was  engaged  in  it,) 
and,  driving  over  a  long  bridge  which  spans  the  Ticino,  we 
entered  a  higher  country,  and  a  more  salubrious  atmosphere. 
In  a  few  miles  we  reached  the  Po,  crossing  it  on  a  bridge  of 
boats.  Then  the  hills  began,  clothed  to  their  summits  with 
vineyards.  In  this  region  there  was  no  malatia,  and  the 
rich  purple  hue  of  the  great  bunches  of  grapes,  half  hidden 
by  the  green  leaves,  was  beautiful.  For  mile  after  mile  we 
passed  along  small  valleys,  and,  save  the  embankment  upon 
which  the  road  ran,  every  spot  of  earth  was  covered  with 
vines,  and  so  heavy  and  thick  were  the  clusters  of  grapes,  far 
up  on  the  hill-tops,  they  seemed  resting  like  a  purple  cloud 
upon  the  green  vineyards.  We  often  stopped  at  little  vil- 
lages, and  bought  large  baskets  of  the  most  luscious  grapes, 
for  one  and  two  cents ;  they  were  delicious,  and  the  wine 
made  from  them  is  of  delightful  quality. 

We  continued  in  these  valleys  of  vines,  until  wc  came  to 
the  "  Field  of  Marengo,"  where   Napoleon  fought  the  great 


SARDINIAN    OFFICERS.  265 

battle  on  the  14th  day  of  June,  1800.  The  Austrian  army, , 
numbering  forty  thousand  men,  was  under  the  command  of 
Melas,  (a  general  eighty-five  years  old.)  Napoleon  was  sur- 
rounded by  his  brave  suite,  consisting  of  Lannes,  Kellerman, 
and  Dessaix  (who  was  killed  there) ;  but  he  had  only  thirty 
thousand  men.  At  one  period  it  was  believed  the  battle  was 
lost ;  then  Napol6on,  riding  in  front  of  his  soldiers,  said  to 
them,  as  he  checked  their  retreating  steps,  "  Soldiers !  you 
have  retired  far  enough — let  us  now  advance, — you  know  it 
is  my  custom  to  sleep  upon  the  battle-field  !  "  A  new  enthu- 
siasm appeared  to  revive  their  fainting  hopes,  and  they  rush- 
ed with  such  overwhelming  power  upon  the  Austrians,  they 
compelled  them  to  retreat,  even  into  the  river  Bormida, 
where  hundreds  were  drowned,  and  by  night  the  river  was 
almost  filled  with  the  dead  bodies  of  horses  and  men. 

The  Duke  of  Genoa  was  to  review  the  Sardinian  soldiers 
the  day  after  our  visit  to  the  Field  of  Marengo,  and  several 
regiments  were  already  assembled  on  the  ground,  marching 
to  and  fro,  in  preparation  for  the  review.  There  were  some 
squadrons  of  cavalry  galloping  across  the  plain,  and  the  field 
had  a  most  warlike  and  martial  seeming. 

At  Alessandria  we  found  the  city  filled  with  officials  and 
soldiers ;  there  were  bands  of  music  playing  in  the  squares, 
and  long  lines  of  men,  in  handsome  uniforms,  filling  up  the 
streets.  The  people  all  appeared  in  their  holiday  dresses, 
and  a  perfect  carnival  prevailed.  The  Sardinian  officers  and 
soldiers  are  strong,  fresh,  noble-looking  men,  with  a  most 
gallant  bearing.  Becoming  acquainted  with  some  of  the 
chief  officers,  we  found  them  intelligent  and  courteous  men. 
They  spoke  with  admiration  of  America,  (as  the  compatriots 
of  Columbus  should  do,)  and  made  many  inquiries  concern- 
ing its  progress.  One  of  the  officers,  having  left  us  for  a 
short  time,  returned  with  an  invitation  we  should  attend  the 
Vol.  I.— 12 


266  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

review  the  next  day.  It  was  most  pleasant  to  meet  these 
kind  civilities  amid  entire  strangers,  and  our  visit  to  the 
Field  of  Marengo,  and  Alessandria,  will  long  linger  in  our 
memory. 

Alessandria  has  no  particular  interest  of  antiquity  about 
it,  except  that  conferred  upon  it  by  its  construction  by  all 
the  cities  which  formed  the  "  Lombard  League,"  in  1164. 
They  all  sent  money  and  men,  and  by  the  aid  of  an  astrol- 
oger, divined  the  most  fortunate  place  for  a  town  of  defence 
against  the  northern  powers.  It  was  named  for  the  Pope 
Alexander  III.,  who  was  the  protector  of  the  Guelphs,  hence 
the  Ghibellines,  in  derision,  called  it  the  "  City  of  Straw," 
from  its  rapid  growth  and  the  chaff  mixed  in  the  bricks 
with  which  it  was  built.  It  has,  however,  proved  a  very 
substantial  and  thriving  town. 

A  descendant  of  Alfieri,  the  great  poet,  has  a  noble 
palace  there.  Just  without  the  walls  was  the  railway  sta- 
tion, where  we  took  the  cars,  journeying  over  a  level  country 
until  we  reached  Novi,  where  the  Apennines  begin;  first, 
only  hills  covered  with  groves  of  chestnut.  At  Giovi,  they 
become  mountains,  which  the  workmen  were  piercing  to 
make  a  tunnel  through  for  the  railway.  As  it  was  not  com- 
pleted, we  again  were  compelled  to  take  the  diligence,  and 
thus  cross  over  the  chain,  called  the  "  Sea  Alps,"  running  to 
the  waves  of  the  Mediterranean.  As  we  ascended  the 
mountains  a  violent  storm  of  wind  and  rain  came  on.  So 
fierce  were  the  blasts  rushing  and  roaring  through  the  gorges, 
we  often  feared  the  diligence  would  be  dashed  down  the  side 
of  the  precipice.  In  the  midst  of  this  tumult  of  the  ele- 
ments we  were  stopped,  and  several  persons  opening  the 
door  insisted  upon  reading  the  passports ;  after  a  long  delay, 
they  permitted  us  to  proceed.  Wearied  with  anxiety  and 
exhausted  with  fatigue,  in  spite  of  the  "  terrors  of  the  way," 


GENOA PROSPECT  FROM  THE  HOTEL  TOWER.   267 

I  fell  into  a  profound  sleep,  and  my  spirit  fled  across  the 
ocean  to  my  dear  home ;  the  greetings  of  loved  ones  were 
ringing  in  my  ears,  when  R.  called  to  me,  "  Come,  come, 
arouse  yourself,  you  are  on  the  sea-shore."  Eagerly  starting 
up,  I  looked  forth ;  we  were  driving  directly  along  the  beach. 
Great  waves,  crowned  with  white,  were  rolling  in,  almost 
touching  the  wheels  of  the  diligence ;  and  thus  I  first  saw  the 

"  Mediterranean,  sea  of  memories." 

The  gates  of  Genoa  were  soon  entered,  and  at  the  office 
of  the  "  administration  of  the  diligence,"  we  were  desired 
to  descend,  as  it  was  against  their  regulations  to  drive  pas- 
sengers to  hotels.  It  was  midnight,  no  carriage  could  be 
obtained,  not  even  a  guide  to  show  us  to  an  hotel ;  here 
was  quite  a  dilemma,  but  good  friends  have  always  been 
near  me  since  first  we  landed  in  the  Old  World.  An  Italian, 
who  had  been  our  compagnon  du  voyage  during  the  day, 
and  had  rendered  himself  most  agreeable  by  his  information 
and  charming  conversation,  very  opportunely  returned  to 
inquire  at  the  office,  to  what  inn  we  had  gone.  Finding  us 
still  there,  he  kindly  became  our  cicerone  through  the  laby- 
rinth of  streets,  and  accompanied  us  to  the  Croce  di  Malta. 
To  enter  it,  we  passed  a  long,  massive,  gloomy  arcade,  then 
mounted  steps  innumerable,  to  a  bed-chamber  in  the  tower. 
This  hotel  once  belonged  to  the  "  Knights  of  Malta,"  and 
was  magnificent  in  their  day. 

It  was  very  late  when  we  awoke  the  next  morning,  and 
upon  opening  the  windows  a  dazzling  scene  met  our  eyes. 
The  tower  in  which  we  were  lodged  was  the  loftiest  in  the 
city,  and  thence  we  overlooked  Genoa,  the  harbor,  the  sea, 
and  the  coast ;  the  sky  was  of  intense  blue,  and  the  Mediter- 
ranean calm  as  an  Alpine  lake,  while  afar  oflf  the  sails  of 
ships  and  feluccas  seemed  like  the  white  wings  of  great  birds 


268  SOUVENIRS   OF  TRAVEL. 

gleaming  in  the  sunlight.  It  was  a  glorious  view,  but  the 
absence  of  supper  last  night,  and  breakfast  in  the  morning, 
recalled  us  to  the  actualities  of  life ;  so,  as  soon  as  dressed,  I 
descended  to  the  "  regions  below  "  to  seek  the  inn-keeper. 
Finding  him  very  complaisant,  I  begged  he  would  allow  us 
to  come  down  a  few  stories ;  he  was  quite  amazed,  exclaim- 
ing, "  But,  Signora,  the  prospect  from  the  tower  is  the  most 
famous  in  Italy."  Acknowledging  its  supremacy,  I  still  en- 
treated he  would  give  us  other  apartments.  This  was  done, 
and  we  were  installed  into  a  suite  of  rooms  in  the  fourth 
story,  fronting  the  sea,  furnished  in  the  most  splendid  style. 
A  breakfast  (it  may  be  deemed  the  perfection  of  a  break- 
fast) was  set  out  in  the  dining-room  of  our  apartments,  con- 
sisting of  fresh  sardines,  fried  in  oil,  admirable  omelettes, 
and  twelve  varieties  of  fruits,  of  which  the  grapes  were  de- 
licious beyond  any  we  have  ever  tasted.  A  basket  of  pomme 
dfamore  (apples  of  love)  was  brought  in,  of  a  deep  golden 
color ;  attracted  by  the  name,  we  cut  one,  and  found  it  was 
our  iomaiOy  only  of  a  different  hue. 

Luxuriating  in  the  comfort  and  elegance  of  our  drawing- 
room,  with  its  rich  sofas,  frescoed  walls  and  ceiling,  and 
marble  floor,  we  lingered  in  it  until  the  evening,  only  occu- 
pying ourselves  with  gazing  from  the  windows  upon  the 
sparkling  sea.  It  was  Sunday,  and  bells  of  every  variety  of 
jingling  tones  were  ringing,  ringing  peal  after  peal.  Just 
before  sunset  we  started  out  for  a  walk,  proceeding  first 
along  the  terrace,  which  is  upon  the  roof  of  the  warehouses, 
directly  on  the  margin  of  the  harbor ;  from  this  a  winding 
way  conducted  us  to  a  high  wall  on  the  summit  of  the  per- 
pendicular cliff,  whence  we  looked  down  to  the  Mediterra- 
nean, breaking  fiercely  against  the  base,  a  hundred  feet 
below  us.  Then  on  through  the  narrowest  and  most  un- 
cleanly of  streets ;  we  often  found  them  not  more  than  seven 


ACQUA   SOLA.  269 

or  eight  feet  wide,  with  houses  as  many  stories  high ;  the 
little  strip  of  clear  sky  seen  above  them,  was  like  a  roof  of 
blue  over  the  dark  and  dingy  walls.  Incredible  numbers  of 
children  were  thriving  and  flourishing  in  these  alley-ways. 
Far  above  us  we  saw  trees  growing,  as  it  were,  on  the  tops 
of  houses ;  so  we  climbed  up  several  streets,  and  at  last  came 
to  a  beautiful  garden,  above  many  of  the  ten-story  houses. 
Inquiring  of  a  ragged  urchin,  he  informed  us  it  was  the 
Acqua  Sola,  the  promenade  or  Paseo  of  Genoa;  it  was  filled 
with  well-dressed  and  well-looking  people,  in  their  holiday 
attire.  A  military  band  was  playing,  and  beneath  the  ole- 
ander, orange,  and  lemon  trees,  groups  were  walking  or 
seated  on  stone  benches.  There  were  parterres  of  flowers, 
fountains  falling  in  marble  basins,  and  statues  half  hidden 
amid  the  clustering  roses.  Without  this  "  charmed  circle," 
was  a  carriage-drive,  where  the  nobility,  in  handsome  equi- 
pages, were  moving  at  a  slow  pace  round  and  around. 

In  the  throng  of  the  garden,  we  remarked  the  peculiar 
bead-dress  of  the  Genoese  women.  It  consists  of  light  gauzy 
material  thrown  negligently  over  the  head,  and  caught,  in 
one  hand,  across  the  bosom.  It  has  certainly  a  poetic  and 
graceful  appearance,  and  the  fingers,  clasping  the  folds  of  the 
white  muslin,  have  a  most  delicate  hue  and  form.  The 
Milanese  and  the  Genoese  women  have  long  contended  to 
which  covering  of  the  head  the  term,  "  most  beautiful," 
should  be  applied,  to  the  black  veil  of  Milan  or  the  white 
veil  of  Genoa. 

The  merry  scenes  in  the  Acqua  Sola  were  very  pleasant, 
and  we  lingered  until  the  sun  went  down  in  a  mass  of  purple 
clouds,  tinged  at  their  edges  with  golden  light.  The  lamps 
were  quickly  gleaming  throughout  the  city,  and  the  great 
lantern  of  the  lighthouse  flashed  out  long  rays,  as  if  it  were 
an  immense  star  emerging  from  a  cloud,  and  then  hidden 


270  SOUVENIRS   OF  TRAVEL. 

again.  "We  came  down  into  the  lower  city,  and  enjoyed  the 
delight  of  losing  our  way,  and  wandering  hither  and  thither 
to  find  it.  We  made  many  inquiries,  and  received,  various 
directions,  which  we  followed,  but  without  success.  At 
length  we  fell  in  with  a  sailor,  who  immediately  said  he 
would  conduct  us  to  the  Croce  di  Malta.  Talking  with  him, 
he  told  me  he  had  often  sailed  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
knew  the  Americans  well.  As  we  parted,  we  oflfered  him 
money  with  our  thanks;  the  latter  he  accepted,  but  the 
money  he  would  not  touch,  saying,  "  I  cannot  take  it ;  Amer- 
icans have  been  so  kind  to  me  in  their  country.  I  would  do 
any  thing  in  the  world  to  oblige  one!  "  Thus  we  were  the 
recipients  of  the  gratitude  of  the  poor  sailor  for  the  charity 
rendered  to  him  thousands  of  miles  away. 

We  took  cofi"ee  in  a  splendid  saloon,  and  then  went  to  the 
Carlo  Felice,  a  spacious  and  elegant  theatre,  where  we  saw 
an  inimitable  comedy  and  an  operetta.  The  Italians  are 
capital  actors.  The  audience  was  composed  mostly  of 
women,  who,  with  their  white  veils,  produced  a  very  pretty 
effect. 

Returning  to  the  Hotel,  we  seated  ourselves  at  the  win- 
dows, and  spent  several  hours  looking  out  upon  the  moonlit 
Mediterranean.     So  ended  our  first  day  in  Genoa. 

The  succeeding  day  was  one  of  regular  sight-seeing,  be- 
ginning at  the  Annunciata,  a  gorgeously  gilded  church,  built 
by  a  family  who  were  the  possessors  of  the  island  of  Tabarca, 
off  the  Coast  of  Africa.  They  lavished  immense  wealth  upon 
it,  and  adorned  it  with  many  beautiful  marbles.  The  dome 
glitters  with  frescoes  and  gold.  It  would  seem  the  "  precious 
dust "  of  several  Californian  mines  had  been  needed  for  its 
dazzling  adornments. 

The  church  of  San  3Iatteo,  built  by  the  Doria  family  in 
1278,  has  an  historic  interest  from  the  inscriptions  telling  of 


THE   DUOMO   of"  SAINT   LORENZO.  271 

the  successes  of  the  Dorias  over  the  Venetians,  in  their  strug- 
gles for  supremacy  on  the  sea,  when  Venice  and  Genoa  were 
rivals.     The  great  Andrea  Doria  is  buried  within  it 

The  Duomo  of  Saint  Lorenzo  was  founded  in  the  eleventh 
century.  The  aisles  are  divided  by  Corinthian  columns,  and 
upon  the  frieze  is  engraven,  in  capital  letters,  the  history  of 
the  foundation  of  the  city  of  Janus  the  First,  King  of 
Italy.  We  came  to  a  screen  of  marble  pillars,  and  walking 
through  them  we  were  about  entering  a  chapel-door,  when  an 
aged  priest  stepped  out  and  informed  us  it  was  the  chapel  of 
Saint  John  the  Baptist,  and  females  were  not  permitted  to 
enter  it  except  upon  one  day  of  the  year.  K  went  in,  and 
on  returning  told  us  it  was  magnificent.  Porphyry  pillars 
supported  the  sarcophagus,  in  which  were  placed  the  relics 
of  the  saint.  We  inquired  of  the  monk,  who  was  our  guide 
through  the  cathedral,  why  we  were  excluded.  He  answered, 
that  by  the  command  of  Pope  Innocent  the  Eighth,  women 
were  not  allowed  to  enter  but  once  in  the  year.  It  was  pro- 
bably a  revenge  upon  the  sex,  since,  through  the  witchery 
of  the  fair  daughter  of  Herodias,  the  saint  lost  his  head. 

We  visited  many  other  churches,  but  after  those  of 
Venice  they  had  not  many  attractions.  Then  we  proceeded 
to  the  streets  of  palaces.  These  are  the  Strada  Balbi,  the 
Strada  Nuova,  and  Nuovissima.  Unhappily  they  are  very 
narrow,  and  hence  the  majestic  proportions  of  the  palaces  are 
not  viewed  in  all  their  grandeur. 

These  great  mansions  resembled  each  other  outwardly. 
They  all  have  wide  vestibules,  and  rows  of  marble  pillars 
around  them.  Thence  we  ascended  broad  stairways  to 
splendidly  furnished  apartments,  upon  whose  walls  were 
master-pieces  of  Vandyke,  of  Kembrandt,  of  Rubens,  of 
Paris  Bordoni,  of  Carracci,  and  Andrea  del  Sarto. 

In  the   rear  of  these  palaces  were  terraces  forty  or  fifty 


272  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

feet  above  the  street ;  these  were  planted  with  orange  trees, 
and  the  oleanders,  in  fullest  blossom  ;  then  arches,  twined 
with  jessamine  and  honeysuckle,  and  cool  bowers  formed 
amid  great  rose-hedges.  We  never  met  any  inhabitants  in 
these  princely  mansions.  They  all  lived,  they  told  us,  in 
country  villas,  save  a  few  months  of  the  winter  season,  when 
they  opened  their  saloons  to  society.  In  some  of  the  rooms, 
liowever,  on  the  ground-floor,  there  appeared  to  be  ofiices  of 
bankers  and  lawyers. 

Upon  entering  the  Palazzo  Reale  (once  the  Durazzo),  we 
met  a  singular-looking  beggar.  He  was  in  a  little  cart, 
shaped  precisely  like  a  large  wooden  bowl.  He  was  without 
legs,  and  seemed  as  though  he  had  been  cut  in  two  just  about 
the  hips.  He  had  a  smiling,  intelligent  face,  and  pushed 
himself  rapidly  over  the  marble  floor  of  the  corridor,  by  the 
aid  of  an  oar-shaped  stick.  He  held  out  his  hand,  saying,  in 
a  plaintive  tone,  "  Charity,  Signora,  for  the  most  wretched 
of  human  beings."  We  gave  him  some  mojiey,  and  congrat- 
ulated him  upon  bearing  his  lot  so  bravely :  whereupon  he 
improvised  a  short  oration,  setting  forth  that  the  "joy  of 
giving  "  is  far  beyond  the  "joy  of  receiving,"  and  ended  by 
asking  for  more  charitd. 

In  the  royal  palace,  the  frescoes  and  paintings  are  par- 
ticularly fine.  One  of  the  saloons  contains  some  modern 
statuary,  by  Parodi,  which  is  very  excellent.  It  was  in 
this  palazzo  we  were  drawn  up  from  one  story  to  another. 
Seating  ourselves  in  an  arm-chair,  the  machinery  below  was 
put  in  motion,  and  we  quickly  found  ourselves  ascending  a 
round  tower,  with  landings  at  intervals.  This  is  an  admi- 
rable invention,  for  in  Genoa  "  the  best  of  every  thing  "  is  at 
the  top  of  the  house,  thus  requiring  an  immensity  of  walking, 
and  for  one's  comfort  needing  an  additional  set  of  muscles 
for  the  legs. 


PALAZZO  DORIA PALACES.  273 

The  Palazzo  Doria  is  without  the  walls.  It  is  a  grand 
old  edifice,  and  has  a  charming  view  of  the  city.  The  gar- 
dens run  down  to  the  sea.  Just  on  the  very  margin  is  a  wall, 
over  which  the  orange  trees  hang,  almost  touched  by  the 
waves,  as  they  break  over  the  rocks  on  the  shore.  A  noble 
marble  terrace  rises  near  them,  where  the  brave  Andre  Doria 
was  wont  to  walk  at  evening,  and  where, 

"  when  ashore, 
Held  many  a  pleasant,  many  a  grave  discourse 
With  them  that  sought  him,  walking  to  and  fro, 
As  on  his  deck." 

Doria  possessed  great  wealth,  and  was  the  owner  of  a 
fleet  of  galleys,  with  which  he  aided  the  deliverance  of 
Genoa,  in  1528,  from  the  power  of  the  French.  Although 
offered  the  Ducal  authority,  he  declined.  The  palace  is  in  a 
sad  state  of  decay.  The  fountains  are  dry,  and  the  grottoes 
and  statues  crumbling  into  dust. 

The  Brignole  Sale,  the  Serra,  and  Spignola  Palaces  are 
all  of  remarkable  architecture,  and  filled  with  pictures  and 
mosaics.  Our  entire  morning  was  spent  amid  the  palaces, 
and  with  eyes  wearied  with  the  walls  of  art  we  gladly  rowed 
out  into  the  harbor  to  obtain  a  better  view  of  "  Genoa  the 
Superb."  It  is  very  peculiar  in  form,  rising  up  like  an  am- 
phitheatre around  the  harbor,  enclosed  by  the  high  moun- 
tains beyond.  It  really  seems  a  city  thrown  between  the 
land  and  water,  and  caught  upon  the  inequalities  of  the 
rugged  surface.  From  the  wide  terrace  on  the  margin  of 
the  bay  the  houses  are  built  up  on  streets  one  above  the 
other,  presenting  the  appearance,  from  the  water,  of  one 
house  springing  up  from  the  roof  of  another. 

Genoa  had  a  double  charm  to  us,  since  it  was  the  birth- 
place of  Columbus  (at  least  he  was  born  in  a  village  nearby), 
Vol.  L— 12* 


274  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

and  we  saw  in  an  old  church  the  font  where  he  was  baptized. 
A  monument  is  now  building  to  his  memory  in  the  city. 
It  is  only  a  few  feet  high  as  yet. 

Grenoa  has  always  been  a  great  commercial  town,  and  its 
inhabitants  are  exceedingly  industrious  and  energetic,  quite 
the  Yankees  of  Italy.  The  city  was  founded  in  the  second 
century  by  the  Ligurians,  and  resisted  for  near  eighty 
years  the  encroachments  of  the  Romans.  While  Genoa  was 
a  republic,  her  naval  and  merchant  fleets  were  spread  over 
many  seas,  bearing  to  distant  lands  its  fame,  as  indeed  "  the 
City  of  Palaces." 

The  port  of  Genoa  is  quite  small,  and  is  defended  from 
the  waves  of  the  Mediterranean  by  two  sea-walls,  called 
moles.  On  a  jutting  point  is  the  Fanale,  (light-house,) 
more  than  three  hundred  feet  high.  There  were  multitudes 
of  ships,  crammed  one  against  the  other,  and  steamers  com- 
ing in  and  departing  several  times  during  the  day.  Then 
the  bay  was  covered  with  little  boats  manned  by  oddly- 
dressed  boatmen,  who  were  screaming  and  gesticulating  as 
though  engaged  in  fierce  quarrels.  Their  dialect  is  very 
harsh. 

The  city  is  encircled  by  three  walls,  built  at  different 
periods.  It  is  said,  traces  of  the  old  Roman  walls  can  still 
be  seen  upon  the  ramparts  (or  inner  wall).  There  is  a  de- 
lightful drive  ending  in  the  Acqua  Sola,  the  lovely  garden 
we  visited  during  our  first  evening's  walk.  The  hill-tops  are 
crowned  with  forts,  and  Genoa  is  famous  for  the  sieges  it  has 
sustained. 

In  wandering  to  and  fro  we  often  went  into  the  street  of 
the  jewellers,  where  the  jdelicate  Genoese  silver  and  gold 
filagree-work  is  made.  It  is  very  beautiful,  and  though 
often  as  fine  as  the  spider's  web,  it  is  strong  as  the  hair  of 
the  human  head. 


DEPABTURE  FROM  GENOA.  276 

Many  of  the  streets  are  too  narrow  even  to  permit  a  car- 
riage to  pass,  and  some  funny  stories  were  told  of  Milor 
Inglese,  who  insisted  upon  attempting  it,  and  finding  them- 
selves stuck  fast,  were  obliged  to  be  dragged  out  at  the  top 
of  the  carriage,  as  the  doors  were  jammed  against  the  walls 
on  either  side  of  the  street. 

Our  favorite  Parodi  was  absent  from  Grenoa  at  a  villa 
she  has  bought  some  twenty  miles  away,  where  she  lives, 
surrounded  by  her  family,  whose  prosperity  and  comfort  she 
has  secured  by  the  fortune  she  gained  while  in  America. 

We  remained  in  Genoa  some  days,  and  then  took  the 
Anatole,  a  diminutive  steamer,  not  as  large  as  an  American 
ferry-boat,  for  Marseilles.  As  we  were  on  board  some  time 
ere  the  anchor  was  weighed,  we  had  the  benefit  of  several 
concerts  around  us.  There  were  groups  of  singers  in  small 
boats,  singing  most  vivaciously,  and  looking  most  imploringly 
upward  at  the  passengers.  When  part  the  first  was  ended,  a 
pretty  little  girl  sprang  up  the  side,  and  handed  around  a 
little  box,  which  was  soon  filled  with  sous.  Part  the  second 
was  still  unfinished  when  we  steamed  away. 

The  day  is  lovely,  the  sea  calm  and  intensely  blue,  and 
the  atmosphere  of  such  wonderful  clearness,  we  can  distin- 
guish perfectly  objects  on  the  shore.  There  seems  a  rivalry 
between  sky  and  sea,  or,  perhaps,  a  love  one  for  the  other; 
for  the  sea  appears  but  a  mirror  wherein  is  reflected  the 
azure  of  the  "  upper  deep."  Afar  off  are  the  mountain-tops 
covered  with  snow,  while  we  are  in  delicious  summer 
weather.  I  am  seated  on  the  deck,  pencil  in  hand,  to  de- 
scribe the  going  down  of  the  sun.  It  is  just  approaching  a 
snow -tinged  peak,  which  it  turns  to  a  rose  color.  Now  a 
slight  gauzy  cloud  has  come  over  it,  and  from  beneath 
streamed  down  the  golden  rays,  precisely  like  the  halo 
around  the  virgins  of  Murillo.     It  is  passed,  and  the  sun 


276  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

has  touched  the  summit  of  the  Apennines.  They  glow  like 
fire  as  it  sinks  from  view.  But  rich  hues  of  amber  and 
crimson  yet  linger;  slowly  it  is  fading,  fading,  fading,  and 
purple  twilight  is  here.  It  was  a  glorious  sunset  upon  the 
"  Middle-Earth  Sea,"  and  as  a  beautiful  picture  it  shall  be 
cherished  in  memory.  But  darkness  has  almost  come,  and  I 
can  scarcely  write.     Still  it  is  not  darkness  ;  for  though 

"  The  moon  is  up,  it  is  not  night; 
Sunset  divides  the  sky  with  her," 

The  night  had  such  bewitching  loveliness,  we  could  not 
think  of  sleep ;  thus  we  passed  the  hours  until  nearly  dawn 
upon  the  deck  of  the  small  steamer.  The  sky  was  without 
one  cloud,  and  the  "  full-orbed  moon  "  cast  a  long  train  of 
brilliant  light  over  the  calm  surface  of  the  Mediterranean, 
revealing  to  our  eyes  the  little  villages  on  the  shore,  the 
mountains  which  crowded  to  the  very  verge  of  the  sea,  and 
the  sails  of  distant  ships. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

By  morning  we  were  amid  curious  conical  rocks  which  rise 
abruptly  from  the  water,  and  appear  of  volcanic  origin,  as 
though  some  convulsion  of  nature  had  upheaved  them.  Then 
we  came  to  Chateau  d'lf,  immortalized  by  the  "  Monte 
Christo  "  of  Alexandre  Dumas.  It  is  a  dreary,  desolate  spot, 
well  suited  for  the  living  death  of  imprisonment. 

The  harbor  of  Marseilles  is  strongly  fortified,  and  the 
numerous  ships  give  earnest  of  its  immense  commerce ;  it  is 
a  city  of  vast  antiquity,  for  it  was  founded  long  before  Rome. 
It  is  busy,  noisy,  and  merry;  all  varieties  of  costume  and 
complexion  are  seen.  There  are  Turks,  Greeks,  Moors,  Afri- 
cans, sailors,  soldiers,  and  a  peculiar  specimen  of  humanity  in 
the  shape  of  boatmen,  wild  and  reckless  creatures,  who  speak 
a  frightful  patois,  and  were  frantic  in  their  supplications  for 
us  to  go  on  shore  in  their  boats. 

From  the  custom-house  we  drove  through  the  principal 
streets,  and  along  the  prado  to  our  banker's  ;  then  to  an  ho- 
tel, where  we  dined.  In  the  afternoon  we  left  by  the  railway, 
for  Avignon.  Our  route  was  for  many  miles  along  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  lovely  prospects  were  con- 
stantly disclosed  to  us.      The   hills   and  valleys  were    "*' 


278  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

planted  with  olive  trees ;  these  were  small,  and  more  like  a 
shrub  than  a  tree.  The  foliage  is  of  a  dull  green,  as  though 
ashes  had  been  sprinkled  over  them.  We  passed  through  a 
tunnel  of  wondrous  length,  and  about  twilight  found  our- 
selves at  Avignon,  where  we  passed  the  night  in  most  elegant 
apartments,  with  the  rare  luxury  of  a  fine  piano-forte. 

Avignon  is  a  very  ancient  city,  with  turreted  walls  and 
narrow  streets.  It  has  many  churches,  and  the  Palace  of 
the  Popes,  wherein  are  the  dungeons  used  in  the  "  Iron 
Days  "  for  the  Inquisition.  There  are  the  rooms  of  torture, 
and  the  ouhliettes^  where  human  beings  were  cast  when  in- 
sensible to  the  agonies  of  the  rack.  The  old  palace  is  now  used 
as  a  barrack  for  soldiers,  and  one  end  is  a  prison.  Above  it  is 
a  tower  where  Kienzi  was  a  captive,  until  liberated  by  the 
entreaties  of  Petrarch ;  and  it  was  in  Avignon  that  Petrarch 
first  saw  Laura,  and  in  the  Franciscan  convent  she  is  buried. 
The  remembrance  of  their  love  was  as  a  ray  of  sunlight  over 
the  gloomy  town.  How  potent  is  the  spell  of  constant  af- 
fection !  its  remembrance  has  lived  through  long  centuries, 
and  is  still  beaming  upon  us,  and  investing  even  the  most 
ordinary  objects  with  interest.  At  Vaucluse,  not  many 
miles  from  the  city,  Petrarch  lived  for  a  time,  and  there  is 
the  famous  fountain  and  his  house. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  left  Avignon,  in  a  sharp  narrow 
steamer,  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  went  up  the  "  arrowy 
Rhone."  The  current  is  exceedingly  strong,  thus  our  pro- 
gress was  not  very  rapid.  As  the  weather  was  damp,  all  the 
passengers  were  crowded  into  the  small  cabin,  where  there  were 
only  a  few  sofas.  To  my  satisfaction,  I  was  seated  by  the  side 
of  the  most  antique  old  begging  friar,  just  like  a  picture  of 
Titian.  His  dress  was  of  brown  serge,  with  a  large  rope  for 
a  girdle,  and  sandals  fastened  across  his  feet  by  heavy  cords. 
He  had  no  covering  for  his  head,  which  was  bald  on  the  top 


THE   SISTER   OF   CHARITY.  279 

but  a  magnificent  beard  of  snowy  whiteness  hung  from  his 
chin  far  over  his  gown.  He  was  plump  and  rosy,  and  had  the 
merriest  twinkle  in  his  eye  one  can  imagine.  To  his  rope- 
girdle  depended  a  rosary  of  great  beads ;  these  he  told  over 
very  devoutly.  He  was  pleasantly  spoken,  too,  and  his 
poverty  did  not  appear  to  have  saddened  his  life. 

There  were  several  Sisters  of  Charity  on  board.  Among 
them  was  a  girl  of  striking  beauty,  with  an  angelic  expres- 
sion of  face.  As  she  caught  my  eye  very  often,  at  last 
she  came  to  me,  and  began  talking  in  a  sweet,  low  voice. 
How  great  was  my  curiosity  to  know  why  one  so  lovely 
should  have  left  the  world !  Not  being  willing  to  appear 
curious,  I  diplomatically  hinted  at  the  subject,  when  she 
sighed  and  said,  "  There  are  some  sorrows  so  profound,  they 
render  life  but  the  tomb  of  hope,  and  make  the  exercises  of 
our  holy  religion  our  only  refuge."  She  was  silent,  and  I 
became  so  too,  looking  at  her,  and  wondering  and  wondering 
what  were  the  great  griefs  of  that  young  heart,  until  the 
boat  stopped  where  she  was  to  land  with  the  others  at  a  little 
village.  She  clasped  my  hands  warmly,  and  whispered, 
"  Many  thanks  for  your  sympathy  ;  I  shall  say  a  prayer  for 
you  to-night,"  and  ere  I  could  reply,  she  was  gone ;  but  the 
thought  of  her  was  long  in  my  mind. 

The  Rhone  seemed  an  old  friend  to  me ;  we  had  journeyed 
upon  its  banks  when  it  was  but  a  rushing  torrent,  and,  had 
seen  it  leave  the  Lake  Leman,  bright,  blue,  and  clear ;  now 
it  was  turbid  and  dark,  like  the  Arve,  with  which  it  there 
mingled. 

The  Rhone  has  a  strong  family  likeness  to  the  Rhine, 
but  is  neither  so  grand  nor  so  picturesque.  There  were  towns 
along  its  margin,  where  the  river  was  confined  within  its 
banks  by  strong  stone  walls.  Far  above,  amid  the  clifis, 
were  villages  and  vineyards,  on  the  side  of  precipices ;  the 


SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

vines  were  planted  in  the  crevices  of  the  rock,  spreading  out 
their  refreshing  verdure,  like  a  green  tapestry  over  the  bar- 
ren stones.  There  were  groves  of  olive  trees,  and  far  up 
the  gorges  we  saw  country  houses  painted  white,  and  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  dark  mountains  rising  above  them. 
Along  their  summits  were  the  ruins  of  old  castles  and  watch- 
towers,  of  much  greater  antiquity  than  those  upon  the 
Rhine. 

We  stopped  at  Valence,  where  there  is  a  fine  suspension 
bridge,  and  were  told  it  was  the  place  were  Napoleon  studied, 
and  the  birthplace  also  of  Aymer  de  Valence,  the  bold  cru- 
sader mentioned  in  "Ivanhoe." 

At  evening  the  rain  began  falling,  thus  envelopiug  the 
shores  in  mist.  Again  we  all  sought  the  miserable  cabin, 
with  its  one  feeble  lamp.  Ah !  what  visions  floated  through 
my  mind  of  the  Gothic  hall  of  the  Eclipse,  and  the  gilded 
saloons  of  the  Isaac  Newton,  our  noble  steamers  upon  the 
Mississippi  and  Hudson.  Incomparably  superior  are  even 
the  poorest  boats  upon  our  rivers  to  any  we  have  seen  in  our 
European  wanderings. 

Very  late  at  night  we  landed  at  Lyons,  the  great  manu- 
facturing city  of  France,  containing  a  population  of  two  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  thousand.  We  drove  through  great, 
irregular  squares  and  streets,  in  the  centre  of  which  the 
Rhone  was  roaring  and  rushing  furiously  onward  to  the  sea. 
No  longer  did  we  wonder  at  the  frightful  destruction  caused 
by  the  floods.  There  seems  no  means  of  staying  the  fierce 
current. 

Lyons  has  many  memories  of  the  Revolution,  and  many 
sad  realities  of  the  woes  and  sufferings  of  the  poor  work-peo- 
ple occupied  in  the  manufactories.  Besides,  an  interest  is 
attached  to  it  from  Bulwer's  "  Lady  of  Lyons,"  and  we  would 
fain  have  known  "  where  dwelt  the  fair  Pauline !  "     But  stu- 


VIEWS    ON   THE   80ANE PARIS.  281 

pid  and  sleepy  servants  opened  the  doors  of  a  wretched  hotel 
for  us,  and  we  soon  forgot  the  haughty  damsel  in  the  repose 
we  so  much  needed. 

By  the  morning  light  we  were  away,  and  steaming  up  the 
Soane,  in  the  same  description  of  boat.  The  scenery  along 
the  banks  was  fine ;  we  saw  L'  Isle  Barhe,  where  Charlemagne 
often  lived,  and  passed  Macon,  where  the  poet  and  historian, 
De  la  Martine,  has  large  possessions,  and  there  spends  the 
summers  upon  one  of  his  grape-farms.  The  mountains  of 
the  Cote  d'Or,  covered  almost  to  their  summits  with  vine- 
yards, were  on  one  side,  and  in  the  dim  distance  the  peaks  of 
the  Jura  chain. 

We  were  compelled  to  wait  at  Chalons-on-the-Soane  for 
some  hours,  which  we  spent  in  walking  through  the  town.  It 
possesses  very  little  interest  for  the  traveller ;  therefore  we 
gladly  sprang  into  the  railway  carriage,  and  were  soon  mov- 
ing rapidly  northward,  passing  Dijon  and  other  large  cities, 
until  we  reached  Paris  late  at  night.  In  a  short  time  we  had 
driven  through  the  gay  and  joyous  Boulevards,  and  were  in 
comfortable  rooms  in  the  Hotel  Meurice,  surrounded  with 
letters,  full  of  pleasant  tidings,  and  words  of  love  from  our 
dear  Southern  home. 

We  spent  several  enchanting  weeks  in  Paris,  then  passed 
rapidly  through  England,  and  embarked  at  Liverpool  in  the 
noble  steamer  Atlantic,  which  brought  us  safely  to  the  Old 
World.  As  I  looked  upon  our  own  dear  flag  floating  from 
the  mast-head,  the  beautiful  words  of  Willis  came  to  my 
mind: 

*'  Bright  flag,  at  yonder  tapering  mast, 

Fling  out  your  field  of  azure  blue ! 

Let  star  and  stripe  be  westward  cast, 

And  point  as  freedom's  eagle  flew ! 

Strain  home,  oh !  lithe  and  quivering  spars ! 

Point  home,  my  country's  flag  of  stars." 


SECOND  VISIT  TO  EUROPE. 


We  passed  one  year  at  home,  and  then  made  another  visit 
to  Europe. 

In  the  brilliant  city  of  Havana  we  tarried  some  weeks , 
thence  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  landed  in  "  fair  Cadiz.' 
We  travelled  on,  through  Spain  and  France,  to  beautiful 
Italy,  reaching  Rome  in  time  for  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Holy  Week. 

The  -  summer  of  the  great  "  Exposition  "  we  spent  in 
Paris,  witnessing  with  delight  the  splendid  pageants  in  honor 
of  the  Queen  of  England. 


t 


CHAPTEK    XXX. 

Havana,  Island  of  Cuba, 

January  28th,  1855. 

On  the  25tli  of  January,  after  bidding  adieu  to  many 
dear  friends,  we  embarked  in  the  noble  "  Black  Warrior," 
and  steamed  away  from  the  Levee  of  New  Orleans.  Al- 
though a  gauze-like  veil  of  mist  hung  over  the  city,  its  cres- 
cent form  was  still  revealed  to  us  by  the  long  lines  of  steam- 
,^  boats  and  ships  which  blockaded  the  shores,  rendering  en- 
trance or  exit  apparently  impossible.  The  banks  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, from  the  city  to  the  sea,  are  extremely  low.  We 
passed  numerous  plantations,  where  the  slaves  were  grinding 
the  sugar-cane.  The  dwelling-houses  of  their  owners  were  in 
the  midst  of  orange  groves,  golden-hued  with  the  wealth  of 
luscious  fruit.     At  four  o'clock  we  entered  the  Gulf,  and  bade 

"  Our  native  land  good  night !  " 

We  soon  sought  the  state-room,  and  strove  in  the  oblivion 
of  sleep  to  forget  the  anguish  of  the  parting  hours.  When 
daylight  came,  we  were  tossing  on  the  short  waves  of  the 
Mexican  Sea.  The  breeze  was  fresh,  and  the  morning  lovely. 
But  woe  unto  me !  the  unrelenting  demon  of  sea-sickness 
had  doomed  me  to  despair,  and  I  lay  for  two  days  and 
nights  quite  bereft  of  hope  or  comfort. 


288  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

At  sunrise  this  morning  Capt.  Bulloch  tapped  at  our 
cabin-door,  to  tell  us  we  would  soon  be  in  Havana,  We 
quickly  made  our  toilette,  and  ran  on  deck  to  enjoy  the 
beauty  of  the  scene.  The  entrance  to  the  harbor  is  very 
narrow ;  thus  we  passed  directly  beneath  the  frowning  battle- 
ments of  the  Moro,  then  along  the  lofty  ramparts  of  the 
Cabanas  to  our  place  of  anchorage.  The  picturesque-looking 
city  of  Havana  lay  before  us,  glittering  in  the  sunlight.  It 
is  wondrously  gay  and  cheerful  in  its  aspect.  The  houses 
are  painted  blue,  green,  red,  and  yellow.  Tall  steeples  and 
waving  palms  rise  above  them. 

In  a  short  time  the  steamer  was  encircled  by  boats,  with 
awnings  half  covering  them,  and  dark  boatmen,  whose  shrill 
voices  loudly  entreated  our  patronage.  '  The  first  person 
who  stepped  on  board  was  Mr.  N.,  the  kind  and  excellent 
friend  of  my  childhood.  We  were  cordially  glad  to  meet 
him,  and  he,  with  the  thoughtful  goodness  of  his  nature,  re- 
lieved us  of  all  care  of  our  baggage,  passing  it  through  the 
custom-house  very  readily,  and  conducting  us  to  the  Hotel 
Cubano,  where  he  had  engaged  excellent  rooms  for  us.  We 
were  received  by  Mrs.  Brewer  (who  keeps  the  house)  in 
the  most  friendly  manner.  She  is  a  lady-like,  agreeable 
woman,  and  we  were  exceedingly  indebted  to  her,  during 
our  sojourn,  for  many  courtesies  and  pleasant  attentions. 

A  delicious  breakfast  was  brought  to  our  apartments, 
very  acceptable  after  fasting  for  three  days  and  nights.  The 
floors  of  our  chambers  are  of  red  tiles,  and  the  beds  are 
only  cots,  without  a  mattress.  .  However,  Mrs.  B.  insisted 
upon  arranging  ours  more  in  accordance  with  American  no- 
tions of  comfort.  The  windows  are  immense,  with  heavy 
wooden  shutters.  By  closing  them,  it  was  perfectly  dark 
within ;  and  so  we  slept  a  few  hours,  and  arose  restored  to 
health,  quite  forgetting  the  desagremens  of  the  voyage. 


THE  VOL  ANTE A  CUBAN  CUSTOM.        289 

After  dinner  we  accompanied  Mrs.  Brewer  to  drive  on 
the  Paseo  Tacon  and  the  Paseo  Isabel.  These  are  great 
squares  of  ground,  planted  with  palm  trees  and  radiant  par- 
terres of  flowers.  Fountains  were  falling  in  marble  basins, 
curiously  sculptured,  and  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  volantes, 
filled  with  lovely  women,  were  driving  around  them.  These 
volantes  are  peculiar  to  Cuba.  They  are  somewhat  like  a 
buggy,  with  high  wheels  and  long  shafts.  There  is  usually 
only  one  horse  within  them,  but  occasionally  an  extra  one  is 
attached.  Upon  a  high  saddle  sits  the  driver,  or  postillion — 
always  an  intensely  black  negro,  with  immense  boots  (each 
one  larger  than  his  body),  ornamented  with  silver.  Then  he 
wears  a  dainty  little  jacket,  embroidered,  and  a  hat  with  a 
broad  gold  or  silver-gilt  band  around  it.  They  appear  to 
take  not  the  slightest  heed  of  the  volante,  but  just  go  on, 
looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left. 

The  volante  has  only  one  seat;  three  ladies  generally 
occupy  it.  They  were  all  attired  in  dresses  of  the  lightest 
and  most  delicate  material,  made  very  decolUe,  and  with  short 
sleeves.  Their  black  hair  was  tastefully  braided,  and  decked 
with  flowers,  or  long  streaming  ribbons  of  brilliant  colors. 
They  all  had  fans  in  their  hands,  superbly'  adorned,  which 
they  gracefully  waved  in  salutation  to  each  other. 

A  few  men  were  reclining  indolently  in  volantes,  but  the 
greater  portion  of  them  were  quietly  walking  along  the 
promenade  between  avenues  of  palms,  looking  at  the  long 
array  of  beautiful  girls  who  passed  them.  Now  and  then 
there  would  be  an  exclamation,  "  How  beautiful !  How  di- 
vine !  "  as  one  of  uncommon  loveliness  appeared.  It  is  a 
Cuban  fashion,  they  told  us,  for  gentlemen  thus  to  express 
their  admiration,  not  only  of  acquaintances,  but  of  strangers ; 
and  it  is  always  received  pleasantly,  and  acknowledged  by  a 
Vol.  I.— 13 


290  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

movement  of  the  fan,  fluttering  as  light  and  softly  as  the 
waving  of  the  "  sylphide  "  wings  of  Cerito. 

Tlie  atmosphere  was  delightful,  and  the  gentle  breeze 
from  the  sea  exquisite.  How  charming  was  that  evening 
drive  along  the  Paseo,  and  the  wide  roads  hedged  in  with 
thickets  of  oleanders  and  rosee  !  It  was  only  when  night 
shut  out  the  novel  spectacle,  we  consented  to  return  to  the 
city.  We  reached  the  hotel  just  in  time  to  escape  one  of 
those  tropical  storms  which  come  almost  without  warning. 
The  clouds  seem  to  open,  and  down  come  cataracts  of  water, 
flooding  every  street  in  a  few  moments.  One  hour  after  this 
deluge  of  rain,  the  moon  shone  forth  brightly,  and  a  few  stars 
gemmed  the  deep  blue  sky.  The  sereno  (watchman)  called 
out  the  hours  of  the  night  in  a  plaintive  tone,  while  from  a 
church  near  by  often  rang  out  the  solemn  peal  of  a  bell. 

Before  the  dawn,  a  regiment  of  soldiers  marched  down 
our  "  street  of  Cuba."  There  were  only  trumpets  and  drums, 
playing  the  Guerilla  March,  so  dear  to  me  in  the  days  of  my 
youth.  I  listened  until  the  sounds  died  away,  and  felt  how 
true  Avere  the  words  of  Croly  : 

"  Music  hath  the  key  of  memory, 
And  thoughts  and  visions,  buried  deep  and  long, 
Come  at  the  summons  of  its  sweetness  nigh." 

The  "  old  time  "  arose  in  my  heart,  and  emotions  which  have 
long  been  covered  with  the  "  lava  of  the  past,"  sprang  up  in 
all  their  first  intensity. 

Jan.  2dth,  1855. — The  streets  of  Havana  are  excessively 
narrow,  almost  like  those  of  Genoa.  There  is  no  side-walk, 
and  persons  take  the  centre  of  the  way  as  they  pass  along. 
The  houses  are  rarely  more  than  two  stories  high.  They  are 
built  around  an  area,  or  court,  wherein  are  orange  trees  and 


CUBAN    MEN A    DRIVE.  291 

flowers,  and  frequently  fountains.  A  wide  verandah,  with 
green  jalousies,  encircles  this  area,  upon  which  the  dining- 
room  and  sleeping  apartments  open.  The  parlor  is  in  the 
front  of  the  house,  with  enormous  windows,  protected  by 
great  iron  bars.  In  truth,  the  windows  are  a  peculiarity  of 
the  city.  They  extend  into  the  street  like  the  bow-windows 
of  old  English  castles,  and  form  a  nice  little  parlor,  where 
the  Cuban  women  sit  at  evening,  becomingly  attired,  with 
their  hair  as  shining  as  anthracite  coal.  They  are  decidedly 
prett}',  and  have  a  dreamy,  quiet  look.  Although  they  are 
not  fat  enough  to  realize  the  ideal  of  Byron's  "  Dudu,"  still 
they  have  much  of  the  captivating  laziness  described  by  the 
poet.  The  dark  outlines  of  the  iron-barred  windows  were 
like  frames  enclosing  the  graceful  pictures  of  these  Spanish 
girls,  as  they  sat  so  still  and  statuesque  within  them. 

The  men  are  rather  small,  with  handsome  features  and 
delicate  moustache.  They  are  well-dressed,  and  have  an  air 
of  self-appreciation  which  is  charming.  We  saw  many  lean- 
ing with  calm  dignity  against  the  windows,  near  the  lustrous- 
eyed  senoritas.  They  seemed  very  undemonstrative,  permit- 
ting the  "  fairer  sex  "  to  make  all  advances. 

After  dinner  we  drove  to  an  exquisite  garden  a  few  miles 
from  the  city.  There  were  long  avenues  of  palm  trees,  myr- 
iads of  brilliant  flowers,  groves  of  orange  trees  and  of  the 
guava,  and  plantations  of  bananas.  The  richness  and  fresh- 
ness of  the  vegetation  was  delightful.  Throughout  the 
grounds  were  fountains  and  canals  of  water,  brought  down 
from  the  distant  mountains,  and  rushing  eagerly  towards  the 
sea.  The  banks  of  these  canals  were  overhung  with  large- 
leafed  plants,  beneath  which  was  an  enchanting  walk  along  a 
stone  embankment. 

It  seems  to  me  that  no  tree  in  the  world  is  so  suggestive 
of  poetry  as  the  palm  tree.     The  trunk  rises  smooth  as  a 


292  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

marble  column,  to  about  the  height  of  seventy  or  eighty  feet. 
Then  branch  out  the  great  leaves,  falling  one  over  the  other 
like  plumes  of  feathers  in  a  field-marshal's  hat.  The  sea- 
breeze,  sighing  through  them,  calls  forth  a  sound  as  soft  as 
the  tone  of  an  ^olian  harp,  thrilling  the  soul  with  sweet  joy. 

The  atmosphere  possesses  a  singular  charm.  Every 
breath  seems  a  delight.  The  delicious  air  fills  the  lungs  as 
though  it  were  some  exhilarating  draught,  while  a  happy 
feeling  pervades  the  whole  frame,  and  the  heart  is  overflow- 
ing with  thanksgiving  for  the  blessing  of  existence.  Over 
the  beating  pulse  steals  a  gentle  languor,  and  we  perfectly 
realize  the  soft  rapture  of  life  within  the  tropics. 

Among  the  pleasant  friends  we  have  met  here,  is  Mr. 
Sidney  Smith,  whose  disinterested  kindness  to  the  prisoners 
of  the  Lopez  expedition  is  so  gratefully  remembered  in  the 
United  States.  He  has  a  noble  and  generous  heart,  and  left 
no  means  untried  to  alleviate  the  sufierings  of  the  unfortu- 
nate men  who  had  so  rashly  engaged  in  the  attempt  to  free 
Cuba  from  the  Spanish  dominion.  In  the  dark  prison  of  the 
Punta  he  received  from  them  messages  of  love  to  their  fami- 
lies, which  he  immediately  transmitted  in  letters  filled  with 
cheering  words.  Many  a  sad  mother  and  weeping  sister  were 
comforted  by  those  letters,  bringing  the  good  tidings  that 
their  dear  sons  and  brothers  had  at  least  one  true  friend  near 
them.  Several  southern  cities  presented  him  with  services 
of  plate,  in  token  of  their  appreciation  of  his  kindness  to  the 
prisoners.  Mr.  Smith  has  recently  been  appointed  British 
Consul  at  Trinidad  de  Cuba ;  and,  ere  he  leaves  Havana,  is 
to  marr}  a  sweet  young  English  girl  from  Canada.  Thus 
good  fortune  and  love  are  weaving  for  him  a  happy  future. 

We  have  passed  all  the  evening  on  the  Plaza  d Annas,- 
where  a  splendid  band  was  playing.  The  palace  of  the  Cap- 
taifi-General,  and   those  of  other  dignitaries  of  the  island, 


PLAZA    d'aRMAS WALK    BY    MOONLIGHT.  293 

have  their  front  upon  this  square.  Towards  the  sea  is  a 
small  chapel,  built  upon  the  precise  spot  where  Columbus 
first  ordered  mass  to  be  said.  There  are  a  great  number  of 
magnificent  palm  trees  and  banks  of  fiowers  of  gorgeous 
hues;  then  fountains,  and  bowers  covered  by  creeping  plants, 
whose  trumpet-shaped  blossoms  w^ere  exquisite.  The  walks 
of  the  Plaza  were  thronged  with  the  pretty  Havaiieras^ 
attended  by  their  cavaliers ;  while  without  the  garden 
were  hundreds  of  volantes,  containing  the  eHie  of  society. 
Mingled  with  all  these  were  thousands  of  negroes,  seemingly 
the  happiest  of  the  crowd.  It  was  indeed  a  most  unique  and 
delightful  scene. 

We  walked  home  along  the  narrow  streets  in  the  moon- 
light. The  great  windows  of  all  the  houses  were  open, 
revealing  the  "  inner  life,"  as  dear  Miss  Bremer  would  say. 
We  often  stopped,  and  looked  in  upon  the  families  in  their 
social  circle.  The  very  young  girls  were  often  playing  the 
piano-forte,  while  the  belle  of  the  household  would  be  seated, 
talking  low  and  lazily  to  a  graceful  youth  by  her  side  ;  and 
the  old  people  playing  dominoes  or  cards. 

Every  house  has  a  poHe  cocher,  or  a  kind  of  corridor ; 
there  the  volante  stands  :  thus  to  enter  the  parlor  we  were 
always  compelled  to  pass  it.  Within  this  porte  cocher,  just 
upon  the  street,  the  slaves  of  the  family  all  gather  at  night, 
and  entertain  their  company  of  big-booted  postillions. 

Jan.  SOthj  1855. — Many  Cuban  women  have  called  upon 
us  this  morning,  with  whom  we  are  quite  charmed ;  their 
manner  is  so  child-like,  unpretending,  and  innocent,  at  the 
same  time  self-possessed.  They  bear  about  them  the  magic 
influence  of  the  climate,  in  the  gentle  tone  of  their  voice,  and 
the  grace  of  their  attitudes. 

Seiior  Navarro  has  been  exceedingly  kind  to  us  since  we 
arrived.     He  is  an  intelligent   Spanish  officer,  who  passed 


294:  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

some  months  last  year  in  Mobile.  He  accompanied  us  to 
the  opera  to-night,  having  obtained  for  us  the  elegant  ^aZco, 
or  opera-box  of  Dona  Luisa  Calvo,  which  was  very  large, 
opening  into  a  delightful  little  parlor,  or  ante-chamber,  where 
our  friends  came  to  visit  us  between  the  acts. 

The  Tacon  theatre  is  of  great  size,  light,  airy,  and  beau- 
tiful. The  boxes  are  separated  only  by  a  delicate  railing, 
while  around  the  front  there  is  a  tracery,  or  trellis-work 
of  iron,  richly  gilded  and  decorated.  It  is  very  slight; 
thus  the  costumes  of  the  senoras  and  senoritas  are  displayed 
in  all  their  graceful  perfection.  They  were  all  in  ball  cos- 
tume, with  jewelled  fans.  The  constant  fluttering  of  these 
fans  was  like  the  rushing  wings  of  great  birds ;  and  I  often 
thought  of  tlie  expression  of  our  beloved  Lady  Emmeline, 
"  In  their  gilded  boxes  they  seemed  to  me  like  Peris,  flutter- 
ing their  wings  as  though  eager  to  escape  from  their  gorgeous 
cages."  Save  La  Scala  of  Milan,  I  have  never  seen  a  the- 
atre so  brilliant  and  splendid  as  the  Tacon. 

The  opera  was  "  I  Masnadieri "  of  Verdi,  founded  upon 
"  The  Robbers  "  of  Schiller.  Steffanone  is  a  magnificent 
woman,  and  sang  the  music  of  her  part  delightfully,  while 
Manzini  filled  the  role  of  Louisa  Miller  very  sweetly.  Salvi 
has  a  charming  soprano  voice,  while  Marini  and  Beneventano 
were  excellent.  Botesifii,  the  matchless  violincellist,  and 
Arditi,  the  violinist,  were  among  the  orchestra.  The  Tacon 
is  admirable  for  sound.  The  most  perfect  decorum  and 
propriety  prevailed  throughout  the  immense  edifice.  In  one 
of  the  upper  boxes,  N.  pointed  out  La  Fiorentrni,  one  of 
the  prime  dorine  (who  has,  however,  now  deserted  the  Im- 
pressario).  She  is  a  superb-looking  creature,  and  must  have 
b^en  glorious  when  her  face  was  lighted  up  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  stage. 

From  the  opera  we  drove  to  Domenica's^  a  famous  con- 


A    "  NORTPIER  " VISIT    FROM    THE    COXSUL.         295 

fectionary.  We  seated  ourselves  near  the  fountain  in  the 
centre  of  the  great  saloon,  roofed  over  with  a  ga;^-colored 
awning.  There  were  myriads  of  gold-fish  glancing  to  and 
fro  in  the  marble  basin,  wherein  fell  the  sparkling  waters. 
We  had  ices,  and  a  Cuban  drink  called  panaliz.  M.  D. 
would  show  his  •  nationality  by  calling  for  a  mint  julep  ; 
whereupon  a  most  curious  mixture  was  brought  him,  quite 
bad  enough  to  "  be  the  death  "  .-f  an  old  Virginian. 

Just  as  we  reached  the  hotel,  the  sereno  cried  out  "  half- 
past  one." 

Jan.  31s^. — When  we  awoke  this  morning,  there  was  an 
oppression  in  the  atmosphere,  and  a  sadness,  for  which  we 
could  not  account.  Upon  leaving  our  chamber,  we  found  it 
was  the  north  wind,  or  "  norther,"  as  they  are  styled  here.  It 
came  roaring  from  the  "north  land,"  charged  with  dampness 
and  gloom.  The  simoom  of  the  desert  cannot  be  more  dis- 
tressing. The  doors  were  banging,  the  windows  rattling,  the 
sea  roaring,  and  the  dust  flying.  The  delicious  breeze  and 
the  beautiful  climate  had  departed.  Like  the  Cuban  womtn, 
we  wrapped  ourselves  in  immense  shawls,  and  sighed  and 
grieved  for  the  soft  and  balmy  air  of  the  first  days  of  our 
sojourn  here. 

About  mid-day  the  sunlight  came  to  us,  by  a  visit  from 
our  consul,  bringing  a  cordial  note  of  invitation  from  the 
Captain-General  to  pass  the  evening  in  the  palace. 

It  has  been  a  sincere  pleasure  to  us  to  meet  Mr.  Robert- 
son again.  I  have  known  him,  and  loved  him  as  a  friend, 
since  memory  first  made  a  record  of  the  past.  He  is  a  re- 
markable man,  full  of  information  and  talent.  Through  all 
the  changes  of  his  life,  from  imnxense  wealth  to  often  a  bare 
competency, .  he  has  preserved  the  same  kind,  warm  heart, 
the  same  courteous  manner,  which  I  so  well  remember  in  my 
young  days. 


296  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

At  eight  o'clock  Mr.  llobertson  called  for  us,  and  we 
drove  tcf  the  palace  in  a  close  carriage.  Many  soldiers  were 
on  guard  about  the  entrance,  and  servants  in  gay  liveries 
ushered  us  into  the  vestibule.  Thence  we  ascended  a  noble 
marble  stairway,  and  entered  the  reception-room,  where 
Madame  Concha,  an  amiable  and  pretty-looking  woman,  gave 
us  a  most  pleasant  greeting.  In  a  few  moments  General 
Concha  came  in,  and  we  were  presented  to  him.  Ho  is  an 
elegant,  handsome  man,  about  forty,  of  fine  stature  and 
graceful  bearing.  His  manner  is  dignified  and  courteous, 
and  his  conversation  spirited  and  intellectual.  He  expressed 
the  kindest  feeling  towards  the  people  of  the  States,  and  a 
just  appreciation  of  them.  There  were  about  fifteen  persons 
present,  and  we  were  all  seated  vis-d-vis  along  the  edge  of  a 
piece  of  carpet,  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  floor.  Thus  are 
all  the  parlors  arranged,  the  chairs  opposite  each  other,  with 
a  small  space  between  them.  The  palace  is  superb,  very  like 
the  Palazzo  Durazzo  at  Genoa.  la  one  room  was  a  fine 
picture  of  Isabel  Segunda,  and  paintings  and  objects  of 
statuary  made  of  silver  in  the  other  apartments 

After  our  return  from  this  agreeable  visit,  an  acquaint- 
ance of  ours  proposed  we  should  go  down  to  the  parapet  to 
see  the  waves  dash  over  the  Punta.  The  "  norther  "  was  at  its 
height ;  so  we  enveloped  ourselves  in  the  largest  mantles  we 
could  find,  and  ran  to  the  shore.  The  heavens  were  cloud- 
less, and  the  moonlight  dazzlingly  bright.  It  was  really  a 
fearful  sight  to  watch  the  enormous  waves  as  they  came  roll- 
ing in,  breaking  against  the  Punta  and  the  lofty  battlements 
of  the  Moro,  while  a  booming  sound,  as  of  distant  cannon,  met 
the  ear.  The  white  spray  darted  up  high  in  the  air,  and 
often  seemed  like  a  cloud  around  the  furola  (light-house). 
When  these  mountain  billows  liad  exhausted  their  fury,  they 
rolled  into  the  harbor,  crowned  with  snowy  foam,  and  came 


THE    BKITISH    FLEET BISHOP's    GARDEN.  207 

"  gently  Diurmuring  "  to  our  feet  as  we  stood  upon  the  shore. 
These  north  winds  are  vastly  feared  in  Cuba.  They  cause 
disasters  at  sea  and  disease  on  the  shore.  With  a  wild, 
fierce  power  they  attack  the  rocky  ramparts,  which  seem  like 
a  bulwark  to  protect  this  beautiful  tropical  clime ;  and  then, 
when  repulsed,  the  mighty  waves  rise  up,  and  a  tone,  as  of 
baffled  rage,  fills  the  "  voices  of  the  wind."  So  striking  was 
the  spectacle  of  the  warfare  of  the  elements,  that  we  lingered 
far  into  the  night  to  gaze  upon  it, 

Feb.  1st — At  sunrise  Mr.  Smith  rapped  at  our  cham- 
ber-door, to  tell  us  the  British  fleet  were  coming  in.  As  soon 
as  we  could  dress  we  hastened  to  the  Cortina  de  Valdez^  a 
short  parapet  built  out  into  the  bay.  The  "  norther  "  had 
not  entirely -ceased,  but  the  fierceness  of  its  strength  was 
declining.  It  was  a  noble  sight  as  the  ships  came  in.  First 
the  Boscawen,  of  seventy-two  guns,  then  the  Colossus,  of 
eiglity-two  guns.  Their  sails  were  all  spread,  like  great 
white  wings,  as  they  glided  between  the  Punta  and  the  Moro 
Now  and  then  they  seemed  to  bow  in  salutation  to  the  Span- 
ish flag  which  floated  over  the  castellated  walls  of  the  Gibral- 
tar of  the  Antilles.  Along  the  Cabanas  they  slowly  passed, 
and  furled  their  sails  at  the  anchorage  near  us.  There  were 
multitudes  of  people  out  to  look  at  the  ships ;  priests,  with 
immense  hats  rolled  up  at  the  sides ;  Cuban  girls,  with  arms 
and  neck  only  covered  by  a  mantilla  ;  gallant-looking  officers, 
and  old  negro  women  with  lace  veils  as  black  as  their  faces. 

After  breakfast  we  drove  to  the  "  Bishop's  Garden,"  thus 
called  from  having  been  laid  out  near  a  century  ago  by  a 
famous  bishop.  It  now  belongs  to  the  Count  Peiialver. 
Although  in  a  sad  state  of  decadence,  there  are  still  traces  of 
the  beauty  of  other  days.  There  is  a  broad  terrace  of  red 
cement,  shaded  by  tall  mangoe  trees,  and  built  up  just  upon 
the  margin  of  a  rushing  stream,  confined  within  walls  of 
Vol.  I.— 13* 


298  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

colored  tiles.  These  give  out  most  radiant  hues  as  the  sun- 
light falls  upon  the  rapid  current.  The  forest  of  bamboo 
cane  was  very  singular.  Each  stalk  rises  about  thirty  or 
forty  feet  from  the  earth,  and  is  exceedingly  pliant,  waving 
and  surging  in  the  wind.  Near  the  top  is  a  bunch  of  feathers- 
leaves.  These  were  entwined  with  tendrils  of  the  yellow 
jessamine,  glowing  with  the  beautiful  blossoms  of  this  deli- 
cate vine.  We  saw  several  bread-fruit  trees,  with  broad 
leaves,  indented  along  the  edges,  and  a  noble  specimen  of  the 
most  useful  India-rubber  tree.  Then  there  were  groves  of 
citron,  fields  of  pine-apples,  great  squares  of  gorgeous  flowers, 
and  trellises  of  creeping  plants.  Hundreds  of  brilliant  but- 
terflies took  wing  at  our  approach,  seeming  to  fill  the  pure 
air  with  winged  flowers.  Then  in  the  dark,  deep  shade  of 
some  quiet  nook,  we  found  the  cucuyos,  a  kind  of  insect 
emitting  from  its  eyes,  when  alarmed  or  touched,  a  bright 
golden  light.  The  poorer  classes  use  them  in  place  of  fire- 
light, placing  a  number  in  a  gourd,  and  shaking  them  when 
they  require  their  aid  to  illumine  the  obscurity  of  their 
huts.  AVhen  the  night  is  perfectly  dark,  these  cucuyos  gem 
the  trees  and  grass,  as  though  the  stars  of  heaven  had  fallen 
among  them. 

We  lingered  for  many  hours  amid  the  gardens  and  groves 
of  orange  trees.  But  above  all,  enrapturing  were  the  ave- 
nues of  palms,  many  of  them  more  than  a  hundred  yards  in 
length.  Stealing  away  from  Octavia  and  M.  D.,  I  yielded 
up  my  soul  to  the  beauty  of  these  glorious  colonnades,  each 
column  smooth  and  polished  as  those  within  the  vestibule  of 
the  noble  Stafi"ord  House  of  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland. 
Witli  indescribable  delight  I  wandered  long  beneath  the 
shadow  of  the  graceful  leaves  far  above  me,  inhaling  a  new 
life  in  the  delicious  breeze,  and  thinking  how  wise  was  the 
mythology  of  Scandinavia,  which  placed  the  "  home  of  the 


THE   CERKO DK.  LE   RIVEREUD.  299 

blest  "  within  the  regions  of  eternal  summer.  In  the  glacier 
solitudes  of  the  mighty  Alps,  my  heart  sent  up  its  gratitude 
to  God  tliat  I  had  beheld  the  wouderful  majesty  of  his  creation 
in  the  mountain-world ;  so  likewise  to-day  did  blessings 
spring  from  my  lips,  that  I  could  gaze  upon  the  luxuriance 
and  freshness  of  the  "  Middle  Earth,"  and  wander  through 
colonnades  of  the  "  King  Palms,"  whose  trunks  are  chiselled 
by  the  same  Great  Sculptor.  There  is  no  tree  in  the  world 
so  symmetrical  as  the  palm,  so  grand  and  majestic.  Just 
where  the  leaves  branch  out,  is  a  large  circle  of  bright  green, 
which  peels  off,  and  is  renewed  every  month. 

"  What  a  home  for  love  and  joy  might  this  be  !  "  we 
often  exclaimed  during  our  day  in  the  "  Bishop's  Garden." 
Yet  strangers  only  look  upon  its  loveliness.  The  Conde 
Pefialver  and  his  beautiful  Condesa  have  sought  health  and 
happiness  in  another  hemisphere.  How  often  is  it  thus ! 
Treasures  of  beauty  are  cast  upon  the  wide  circle  of  space, 
where  none  cherish  or  prize  them. 

In  the  afternoon  we  went  to  the  Cerro,  a  high  ridge  of 
land  a  mile  from  the  city,  where  many  of  the  nobility  and 
wealthy  people  have  their  country  houses,  called  quintas. 
They  are  some  distance  from  the  road,  and  are  surrounded 
by  gardens  rich  in  all  the  magnificence  of  tropical  plants. 
The  quinta  of  the  Count  Fernandina  is  a  perfect  paradise  of 
flowers,  and  contains  every  variety  of  the  palm  tree  known  in 
the  Pacific,  Indian,  or  Southern  isles. 

We  made  a  visit  to  Dr.  Le  Rivereud,  who  resides  on  the 
Cerro.  He  is  a  Frenchman  who  has  lived  here  for  thirty 
years,  and  is  a  man  of  great  intellect,  varied  information,  and 
wonderful  skill  in  his  profession.  His  wife  has  the  sweet 
name  of  Ferla,  truly  indicative  of  her  pure,  lovely  character. 
She  is  my  compatriot,  too,  since  she  was  born  in  Pensacola, 
the  home  of  my  own  happy  childhood.     Our  dear  friend  Mme. 


300  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

H.  and  her  uoble  boys  are  passing  the  winter  with  them. 
We  found  the  Doctor  an  invalid,  and  a  close  prisoner  with- 
in his  chamber.  Although  a  great  sufferer,  his  spirits 
were  bright  and  cheerful,  and  his  conversation  extremely 
agreeable.  He  begged  we  would  walk  through  his  garden, 
which  appeared  to  be  a  great  pleasure  to  him.  It  was  really 
beautiful,  with  canals  of  water  running  swiftly  by  enormous 
banks  of  flowers,  of  different  hues  and  forms  to  an}'  we  have 
ever  seen.  Then  fountains  and  statues,  cool  grottoes  and 
arbors,  blushing  with  exquisite  pink  convolvulus.  There 
was  too  an  aviary,  full  of  birds,  singing,  and  fluttering  their 
wings  merrily  in  their  mammoth  cage.  Several  trees  and 
shrubs  were  growing  within  its  meshes  of  wire,  and  a  tiny 
fountain  fell  into  a  neat  marble  basin.  The  arrangements 
of  the  house  and  grounds  were  exceedingly  tasteful  and  ele- 
gant. Nothing,  however,  pleased  us  more  than  the  frank  and 
cordial  manner  of  Madame  le  Eivereud  and  her  sisters. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

The  city  of  Havana  is  surrounded  by  wajls,  and  is  defended 
to  the  westward  by  two  massive  forts,  Atares  and  San  Car- 
los del  Frinciph  ^^ile  the  entrance  to  the  peerless  harbor  is 
guarded  by  the  Moro  and  Punia.  The  hills  rise  up  like  an 
amphitheatre  from  the  bay,  fringed  along  their  summits  by 
palm  trees,  which  often  appear  like  a  green  tracery  upon  the 
intense  blue  of  the  heavens.  The  Intramvros,  that  portion 
of  the  city  without  the  walls,  is  very  confined,  and  the  streets 
narrow ;  but  within  them  there  is  a  large  city  with  broad 
streets,  fine  spacious  houses,  and  splendid  paseos.  This  is 
styled  Estramuros. 

The  multitudes  of  negroes  here,  strike  a  stranger  as  re- 
markable. There  certainly  must  be  five  negroes  to  one  white 
person.  There  are  but  few  mulattoes ;  apparently,  admix- 
ture of  blood  is  quite  unusual.  The  slaves  are  certainly 
the  happiest  and  most  independent-looking  people  imagin- 
able. They  are  smiling  and  talkative,  full  of  grimace  and 
gesture. 

The  cries  in  the  streets  are  3easeless.  Men  with  long 
poles,  upon  which  are  strung  embroideries  and  laces,  scream 
out  the  excellence  of  the  articles ;  quickly  follows  a  stout 
Congo  negro,  with  plantains   and  oranges;  then  come  along 


302  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

poor  little  horses,  covered  up  with  green  stalks  of  maize,  as 
though  they  were  moving  corn-fields ;  then  the  man  with  his 
cow  to  be  milked  in  the  paiio,  and  the  vender  of  rain-water. 
In  the  midst  of  all  these  discordant  sounds  peal  forth  the 
tones  of  the  trumpet,  and  squadrons  of  horse  dash  down  the 
streets,  regiments  of  soldiers  march  through  them,  and  long 
lines  of  the  chain-gang,  with  heavy  manacles,  pass  to  and  fro 
to  the  Punta  prison.  At  evening  we  drove  to  that  gloomy 
Punta  prison,  and  around  it,  to  the  spot  were  poor  Lopez 
was  garrotcd.  Then  we  saw  the  beach  upon  which  the  fifty 
Americans  were  shot.  It  is  barren  and  desolate,  like  a 
desert  amid  the  rich  vegetation  around  it.  No  blade  of 
grass  has  ever  sprung  up  since  the  earth  was  flooded  with  the 
life-blood  of  those  hapless  and  wretched  men.  The  remem- 
brance of  their  cruel  fate  came  over  us  as  a  cloud,  which  it 
required  many  an  efl^ort  to  dispel. 

Feb,  2d.  1855. — At  early  morning  we  ran  down  to  the 
Cortina,  where  there  is  a  monument  to  Valdez,  and  a 
fountain  falling  into  the  bay.  A  sweet  quietude  prevailed, 
and  the  "  norther  "  had  subsided  to  a  gentle  wind,  (still  too 
chill  for  this  clime  of  the  south.)  As  we  lingered  to  enjoy 
the  scene,  numerous  bells  began  ringing,  and  priests  came 
hurrying  along.  One  of  them  told  us  it  was  a  saint's  day, 
and  that  high  mass  would  be  said  by  the  bishop  in  the  cathe- 
dral. By  ten  o'clock  we  were  seated  within  this  building, 
consecrated  not  only  by  the  solemnities  of  holy  religion,  but 
sacred  as  containing  the  ashes  of  Columbus.  These  are  in 
an  urn,  imbedded  in  the  wall.  There  is  a  bust  in  basso 
relievo  of  the  great  Discoverer,  with  an  inscription,  telling 
the  gratitude  of  the  Spanish  nation.  The  body  of  Columbus 
has  not  even  been  tranquil  in  its  grave.  Eager  hands  have 
removed  it  from  place  to  place,  and  gallant  ships  have  borne 
it  over  the  vast  ocean  first  traversed  by  his  humble  and  deck- 


cathp:dral — an  evening  party.      303 

less  caravel.  He  died  at  Valladolid,  in  old  Spain,  in  1506, 
and  was  buried  in  the  convent  of  San  Francisco.  Thence 
the  body  was  removed  to  Sevilla  ;  then  to  Hispauiola  ;  and 
in  1795  it  was  brought  in  great  state  to  Havana,  and  landed 
upon  the  beautiful  island  given  by  him  to  the  Old  World. 
Solemn  masses  were  said,  and  the  Governor  received  the 
precious  remains,  and,  followed  by  a  grand  procession,  bore 
them  to  the  cathedral,  where  they  have  since  remained. 
Washington  IrVing,  in  his  admirable  history  of  the  "  Life 
and  Voyages  of  Columbus,"  has  given  a  graphic  and 
eloquent  description  of  the  pageant  which  accompanied  the 
landing  and  transportation  of  the  body  to  its  last  sepulchre. 
Not  far  from  the  urn  is  a  small  painting,  representing  the 
mass,  uttered  by  a  cardinal,  just  as  Columbus  was  departing 
in  his  small  vessel. 

As  there  were  no  p'ews,  or  benches,  a  negro-servaut 
brought  in  a  little  carpet,  and  placed  it  on  the  stone  pave- 
ment. Following  him  came  his  mistress,  who  knelt  upon  it. 
All  classes  of  people  meet  as  equals  within  the  aisles  of  the 
churches.  The  noblest  lady,  kneeling  on  her  gorgeous  carpet, 
has  often  by  her  side  a  poor  old  negro,  with  garments  ragged 
and  torn.  There  were  many  priests  officiating,  and  all  the 
dignitaries  of  the  island  held  immense  candles  in  their 
hands. 

At  night  we  went  to  a  iertuUa  (evening  party)  given  by 
Mrs.  Crawford,  the  handsome  wife  of  the  British  Consul- 
General  of  the  West  Indies.  They  live  without  the  walls, 
in  a  splendid  and  spacious  mansion,  where  there  are  fresco  ceil- 
ings and  floors  of  marble.  Many  of  the  British  officers  were 
present.  The  admiral  is  a  fine,  gallant-looking  old  man. 
Our  admiration,  however,  was  quite  divided  between  the 
elegant  captain  of  the  Espiegle  and  the  charming  chaplain 
of  the  Boscawen,  who  was  a  wonderful  man  in  the  way  of  a 


304  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

clergyman.  He  was  a  frantic  polka-dancer,  an  indefatigable 
waltzer,  and  unwearying  quadriller.  When  we  had  broken 
through  the  early  mists  of  conversation,  we  remarked  to  him 
that  he  was  quite  a  miracle  to  us,  combining  the  minister 
with  the  realization  of  our  American  idea  of  a  fast  man. 
He  looked  amazed,  exclaiming,  "  Good  gracious !  are  not 
your  chaplains  allowed  to  dance  ?  Why,  religion  makes 
people  happy,  and  happy  people  delight  in  dancing."  He 
was  very  merry,  and  ''  a  man  of  infinite  jest;  ''  narrating,  in 
a  pleasant  way,  incidents  of  life  in  the  Baltic,  the  Indian 
Ocean,  and  in  the  Gulf  As  we  were  talking,  between  the 
intervals  of  the  dances,  up  started  a  grave-visaged  man,  and 
sang  a  rattling,  funny  song.  "  Who  is  he  ?  "  we  asked  of 
our  polka-chaplain.  "  The  clergyman  of  the  other  ship," 
he  replied.  So  we  concluded  the  religious  fraternity  of  her 
Majesty's  service  must  be  a  jolly,  miirthful  set  of  men. 

There  were  many  lovely  Havaneras  at  the  tertulia,  and 
several  performed  exquisitely  upon  the  piano-forte.  During 
the  evening  a  pretty,  fairy-like  girl  was  invited  to  sing.  Af- 
ter some  entreaty  she  consented,  and  blushingly  began  the 
recitativo  of  "  Casta  Diva."  Her  voice  was  of  wonderful 
power  and  sweetness,  and  her  perfect  grace  of  execution  and 
expression  were  worthy  even  of  the  lamented  Sontag.  She 
was  a  native  of  Havana,  and  had  never  left  her  island- 
home.  Rarely  even  in  "  the  land  of  music,  fair  Italy,"  have 
we  heard  a  more  enrapturing  cantatrice.  The  charming 
young  hostess,  Mrs.  Crawford,  presented  us  to  her.  The 
name  of  the  beautiful  songstress  was  Conchita  Rios.  She 
was  a  darling  little  creature,  with  bewitching  eyes,  large  and 
liquid,  fringed  with  long  dark  lashes.  Her  mouth  was  a 
mingling  of  the  coral  and  the  pearl ;  her  complexion  clear 
and  pale,  and  the  most  winning  grace  in  her  words  and  gcs- 


DR.  scherzkr's  reminiscences  of  hayti.       305 

tures.  Music  is  a  passion  among  the  Cubans ;  hence  they 
excel  in  it. 

Feb.  od,  1855. — This  morning  we  had  a  visit  from 
Dr.  Carl  Scherzer,  a  geologist,  sent  out  by  the  Austrian 
Government  to  explore  the  buried  cities  of  Central  America. 
He  is  a  noble  specimen  of  a  man,  full  of  enthusiasm  and  in- 
tellect. He  gave  us  many  graphic  descriptions  of  his  two 
years'  sojourn  beneath  the  shadows  of  the  great  volcanoes, 
and  amid  the  dense  and  pathless  forests  covering  the  temples 
of  a  lost  and  unknown  religion.  Dr.  Scherzer  had  also 
passed  some  time  in  Hayti,  wliere  he  liad  been  presented  to 
the  black  Emperor  Faustin  and  his  Empress,  with  the  state- 
ly ceremonies  of  the  French  court.  He  laughinglj  told  me 
he  was  almost  ashamed  of  his  color  while  in  Hayti,  for  a 
white  man  was  looked  upon  with  supreme  contempt ;  and  of- 
ten, as  he  walked  along  the  streets,  negroes  would  say,  "  Bon 
jour,  Blanc  !  "  in  a  scornful  tone.  None  but  those  of  in- 
tense black  color  were  deemed  worthy  of  the  high  honors  of 
the  empire. 

In  the  afternoon  Mrs.  M'Gregor,  the  pretty  wife  of  the 
kindest,  merriest  Scotchman,  Mr.  Jemmie  M'Gregor,  sent 
her  elegant  volante  for  us,  and  we  drove  about  fifteen  miles 
into  the  country,  passing  many  of  the  huts  of  the  guagiros, 
or  monteros,  a  peculiar  type  of  people,  said  to  retain  many 
of  the  characteristics  of  the  Indians,  once  the  happy  posses- 
sors of  Cuba.  These  huts  are  covered  with  palm  leaves,  and 
are  without  windows.  They  are  usually  built  under  the 
shade  of  the  papayo,  or  other  fruit-bearing  tree.  These 
people  have  the  look  of  European  gipsies,  and  the  men  are 
very  comely,  and  fantastically  dressed.  The  women  weave 
straw  hats  and  mats,  and  their  "  lords  of  creation  "  sell  the 
fruit  they  gather,  or  the  green  corn  grown  upon  the  little 
fields  in  the  midst  of  tjie  forest. 


306  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

The  vines  which  entwine  the  trees  are  very  numerous, 
and  absolutely  appear  like  great  anacondas.  The  variety  of 
the  cactus  is  wonderful.  They  assume  the  most  singular 
forms,  and  are  often  adorned  with  flowers  of  gorgeous  hue 
and  delicious  odor.  The  ceiba  tree  is  tall  and  graceful,  but 
its  terrible  foe,  a  parasite  plant,  is  often  seen  clinging  to  it, 
and  crushing  out  its  life.  As  we  returned  to  the  city,  we 
met  numerous  persons  on  their  way  to  their  country  homes. 
Many  were  lazily  reclining  in  volantes.  The  movement  of 
these  carriages  absolutely  encourages  a  kind  of  dolce  far 
niente  feeling.  They  are  really  delightful,  and,  save  the 
Venetian  gondola,  are  the  most  enjoyable  mode  of  locomo- 
tion in  the  world.  About  twilight  we  entered  the  gates  of 
the  city,  and  went  on  to  the  house  of  our  kind  Scotch 
friends,  where  we  passed  a  delightful  evening  amid  a  pleasant 
assemblage  of  French  and  Germans. 

Feb.  4th,  1855. — At  ten  we  were  rowed  off  to  the 
Boscawen,  (flag-ship  of  the  admiral.)  We  descended  to  the 
lower  deck,  where  the  services  were  performed  by  the  polka- 
chaplaiu.  About  seven  hundred  sailors,  all  the  officers  of  the 
fleet,  and  the  foreign  residents  in  Havana,  were  present.  The 
chaplain  officiated  with  infinite  solemnity,  and  prayed  with 
great  devotion  for  "  Victoria,  our  gracious  Queen,  the  Prince 
Albert,  and  all  the  Royal  children."  Every  sailor  responded 
in  deep  and  sonorous  tones,  and  many  joined  in  the  hymns, 
which  were  accompanied  by  the  band.  The  sermon  was 
eloquent  and  well  delivered,  and  received  the  profound  at- 
tention of  the  crew.  When  it  was  ended,  we  were  all  in- 
vited to  walk  around  the  ship,  and  go  down  to  the  regions 
below  the  water.  Every  where  we  were  struck  by  the  re- 
markable neatness  and  good  order.  The  gallant  admiral 
gave  us  refFCshments  in  his  cabin,  where  we  met  the  chap- 
lain, who  smilingly  inquired   how  we  liked  the  sermon ;  to 


KOW    AllOUNl)    THE    HAKBOK.  307 

which  question  we  replied  that  he  was  quite  as  admirable  in 
pulpit  oratory  as  he  was  graceful  in  the  ball-room. 

As  we  were  about  to  leave  the  Boscawen,  we  met  a 
throng  of  Cubans  just  arriving  on  board  to  see  the  ship. 
The  women  were  all  prettily  dressed  in  evening  costume, 
with  white  shoes  upon  their  dainty  little  feet,  and  long  veils 
fastened  to  their  braided  hair  by  bouquets  of  flowers.  The 
young  men  who  accompanied  them  were  handsome,  but  of 
slight  and  delicate  stature ;  and  formed  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  robust  and  stalwart  Englishmen  who  surrounded 
them. 

The  charming  captain  of  the  Espiegle  asked  us  to  go 
with  him  on  board  his  ship,  which  we  found  a  perfect  model 
of  neatness.  His  cabin  was  a  gem  in  its  tasteful  arrange- 
ments and  adornments.  As  the  day  was  lovely,  the  captain 
kindly  gave  us  a  row  around  the  harbor,  in  his  own  gig. 
The  scene  was  dazzling  in  variety  and  beauty — the  city,  with 
its  rainbow- hued  houses;  the  hills,  with  their  coronet  of  palm 
trees;  the  great  ships,  and  the  sparkling  waves  around 
them ;  the  frowning  battlements  of  the  Moro ;  and  afar  off 
the  deep  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf ;  while  the  sunlight  fell 
gloriously  over  land  and  sea. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

At  four  o'clock  we  drove  to  the  Plaza  de  Toros,  outside  the 
walls,  along  the  shore  of  the  Gulf.  In  the  centre  of  this 
square  is  a  vast  amphitheatre,  fashioned  like  those  of  ancient 
times.  The  arena  is  open,  but  the  dress-circle  is  covered 
over  and  arranged  like  the  boxes  of  an  opera-house.  There 
were  about  ten  thousand  persons  seated  around,  and  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues  must  have  resembled  the  tumult  of  old 
Babel.  The  Captain-General,  and  a  suite  of  fine-looking  of- 
ficers, occupied  the  royal  box.  Beneath  it  was  stationed  a 
bugler,  who  acted  as  a  kind  of  signal-maker  for  the  begin- 
ning and  ending  of  the  performances.  A  long,  loud  blast 
from  his  bugle,  and  out  came  a  bull,  who  quietly  surveyed 
the  audience,  then  trotted  around  the  circle.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  piqueros  (pikemen)  on  horseback  dashed  out,  ac- 
companied by  men  in  curious  dresses,  holding  red  cloaks  in 
their  hands.  These  they  waved  at  the  bull ;  but  failing  thus 
to  enrage  him,  the  bander  ill  eros  (banner-men)  joined  forces 
against  the  poor  animal,  who  at  last  rushed  upon  a  pikeman 
and  threw  him  from  his  horse.  Whereupon  the  red-cloak 
gentry  came  to  his  rescue,  and  the  banner-men  stuck  the 
sides  of  the  bull  full  of  sharp  arrows,  with  little  flags  fastened 
to    tliem.     These  were  filled  with    fire-crackers,  which   ex- 


EUY    GOMEZ,    tup:   MATADOR.  309 

ploded,  almost  driving  him  to  madness.  Although  the  sharp 
tip  of  the  horns  seemed  to  have  been  sawed  off,  yet  be  gored 
a  horse  until  the  entire  entrails  fell  upon'  the  ground. 
Screams  and  shouts  of  applause  greeted  the  bull,  and  all 
cried  out,  ''  Brave  bull !  ''  "  Noble  bull !  "  as  the  poor  pike- 
man  rolled  in  the  dust.  In  fact,  all  the  sympathy  was  given 
to  the  bull,  and  I  must  confess  even  we  were  rather  glad  to 
see  him  defeat  his  tormentor.  At  times  the  animal  would 
look  up  at  the  audience,  with  his  great  round  eyes  filled 
with  supplication  and  entreaty.  When  they  had  tortured, 
tormented,  and  enraged  the  creature  to  a  fearful  frenzy,  the 
bugle  sounded,  and  a  handsome  man,  clad  in  a  glittering  cos- 
tume, appeared.  He  bowed  to  the  people,  then  to  the  bull, 
and  drew  forth  a  shining  sword.  He  was  Ruy  Gomez,  the 
matador,  the  killer  of  an  infinite  number  of  bulls  in  old 
Spain.  He  sprang  with  agility  aside  when  the  bull  came 
rushing  upon  him,  then  coquetted  around,  until  a  favorable 
moment,  when  he  plunged  his  sword  into  his  victim  near 
the  shoulder.  There  was  one  loud  moan  heard  above  the 
bravos  and  shrieks  of  the  people,  and  a  perfect  cataract  of 
blood  poured  forth  from  the  poor  sufferer's  mouth,  staining 
the  sands  of  the  arena  to  a  crimson  hue.  With  a  dying 
effort  he  staggered  to  the  feet  of  his  murderer,  where  he  fell 
dead.  Then  the  people  grew  frantic  with  delight.  They 
shouted  !  They  called  to  each,  "  It  was  bravely  done !  " 
"  It  was  nobly  done  !  "  They  threw  up  their  straw  hats 
into  the  air,  while  the  negroes  jumped  upon  their  seats,  and 
gave  utterance  of  their  joy  in  wild  Congo  songs  of  triumph. 
Horses,  decorated  with  bells  and  ribbons,  drew  off  the  dead 
bull,  and  a  fresh  and  fierce  one  darted  in,  with  defiance  in 
his  air.  He  killed  a  horse — broke  a  man's  leg — endured 
the  same  tortures  inflicted  upon  the  first, — and  died  like 
him. 


310  SOUVENIRS  OF  travp:l. 

We  stayed  until  the  fourth  bull  was  slaughtered,  and 
then  departed.  In  all  the  assemblage  of  horrors,  can  there 
be  any  thing  more  cruel  ?  And  yet  many  gentle,  delicate- 
looking  women  witnessed  it,  and  struck  their  jewelled  fans 
against  their  left  hand  in  token  of  applause  and  approbation  ! 
As  we  went  out,  we  met  several  persons  who  congratulated 
us  upon  having  seen  such"  an  admirable  bull-fight — such  a 
gallant  display.  Seven  bulls  and  three  horses  were  killed, 
and  legs  and  arras  of  piqueros  and  banderilleros  crushed,  in 
their  fierce  encounters  with  the  enraged  animals.  We  were 
truly  glad  no  human  life  was  sacrificed  in  the  arena  while 
we  were  spectators  there.  As  the  bull-fight  is  the  national 
amusement  of  the  people,  we  were  resolved  to  witness  it; 
but  one  scene  of  that  description  is  enough  to  satisfy  the 
most  ardent  curiosity. 

After  leaving  the  Plaza  de  Toros,  we  drove  around  the 
paseos,  which  were  exceedingly  thronged.  In  every  volante 
the  prettiest  and  youngest  woman  sits  slightly  in  front  of  the 
other  two,  and  is  always  called  la  niiia  bonita,  (the  beauti- 
ful child.)  The  Captain-General  and  his  Guard  were  out 
amid  the  crowd.  He  rides  in  regal  style.  Oh  !  lovely  was 
the  view  of  hundreds  of  volantes,  filled  with  uracefully-dressed 
girls,  smiling  and  waving  their  fans  as  they  passed  along. 
They  certainly  seem  a  most  happy  and  contented  people,  and 
really  appear  to  feel  compassion  for  those  whose  lot  is  cast 
far  from  Cuba.  What  a  pity  it  would  be  to  make  them 
Americans !  Soon  then  would  they  learn  to  strive — to 
drive — to  struggle — to  labor  to  be  rich.  To  them  the  deli- 
cious climate  would  have  no  charms,  unless  "  they  had 
wealth  at  command."  It  was  pleasant  to  look  upon  the 
contentment  visible  in  every  face.  Agreeable  thoughts 
filled  the  mind,  as  when  one  gazes  upon  a  charming  picture; 


ARRIVAL    OF   THE   FERNANDO    EL   CATOLICU.  oil 

and  it  was  absolutely  refreshing  to  the  spirit,  to  see  no  more 
the  stir,  the  rush,  the  effort  of  Anglo-Saxon  life.  An  enjoy- 
able quietude  pervades  the  earth  and  air,  and  all  objects 
present  a  novel  aspect. 

Beautiful  Cuba  !  Beautiful  Cuba  !  It  is  not  strange  to 
me  now  that  the  followers  of  Columbus  knelt  upon  the 
ground  where  first  they  landed,  and  thanked  the  good  God 
for  the  gift  of  such  a  glorious  country. 

At  night  we  went  to  the  Tacon,  to  the  opera.  Steffanone 
was  grandly  magnificent — Salvi  and  Beneventano  in  superb 
voice.  Indescribably  elegant  is  the  Tacon,  so  perfect  in  its 
proportions,  and  so  tasteful  in  arrangement.  Chocolate  and 
suspiros  at  Domenica's  ended  our  busy  day. 

As  we  entered  the  hotel  we  met  M.  D.,  who  gave  us  the 
charming  tidings  of  the  arrival  of  the  Fernando  el  Catolico. 
He  had  been  on  board  the  splendid  steamer,  and  engaged 
state-rooms  for  our  voyage  across  the  southern  ocean.  What 
a  joy  it  was  to  us,  to  know  we  should  not  be  compelled  to 
visit  the  regions  of  ice  and  snow,  ere  we  stood  beneath  tlie 
dome  of  St.  Peter.  The  Fernando  el  Catolico  will  remain 
one  week  only  in  Havana,  and  then  depart  for  Cadiz.  As 
there  had  been  some  doubt  of  her  coming,  we  had  feared 
we  might  be  forced  to  go  to  Southampton,  and  thence  through 
France  to  Italy.  To  visit  Spain,  and  to  witness  the  solemn 
ceremonies  of  the  Holy  Week  in  Rome,  had  been  the  strong- 
est incentives  which  drew  us  from  our  home.  Now  we 
should  accomplish  both,  and  bright  and  radiant  visions  of 
the  future  mingled  with  our  dreams. 

Ere  the  dawn  we  were  awakened  by  the  marching  of 
several  regiments  past  our  windows.  There  has  been  some 
rumor  of  an  intended  invasion,  and  hence  this  martial  array 
by  day  and  night.     The  soldiers  are  generally  from  old 


312  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

Spain.  They  are  exceedingly  dark  of  complexion,  strong 
and  robust  in  appearance,  although  of  small  stature.  We 
were  told  that  immense  numbers  of  them  die  each  season 
with  the  vomito,  (yellow  fever.)  They  are  remarkable  for 
loyalty  and  devotion  to  their  sovereign. 


OHAPTEE    XXXIII. 

Feb.  btJiy  1855. — During  the  morning  we  were  occupied 
in  writing  letters  or  receiving  visitors.  In  the  afternoon  we 
had  a  delightful  drive  on  the  paseo,  and  at  night  we  went 
to  the  ball  at  the  palace.  It  was  a  magnificent  assemblage 
of  the  grandees  of  the  island,  in  superb  court  dresses  or  rich 
uniforms.  The  lovely  Cubanas  were  in  beautiful  toilettes, 
glittering  with  diamonds. 

Madame  Concha,  a  most  genial  and  pleasant  woman, 
presented  us  to  many  of  the  senoras  and  senoritas,  with  whom 
we  were  charmed ;  they  have  such  a  sweet,  caressing  man- 
ner, so  kind  and  unaffected.  There  is  a  trait  of  character  so 
noble  among  the  Cuban  women,  I  cannot  refrain  from  men- 
tioning it.  They  never  speah  ill  of  each  oilier^  but  always 
find  some  palliation  for  the  errors  of  their  own  sex. 

There  was  music,  and  dancing  of  the  graceful  contra 
danza^  which  seems  peculiarly  delineative  of  tropical  life. 
In  the  soft,  luxurious  strains  of  the  music,  one  feels  the  in- 
fluence of  the  delicious  breeze,  and  sees  in  the  swaying  of 
the  form  the  movement  of  the  palm  leaves. 

The  Captain-Greneral  was  in  a  splendid  dress,  with  many 
orders  gleaming  on  his  breast.    A  number  of  Spanish  officers 
were  present.     They  are  uncommonly  handsome,  delightful 
in  conversation,  and  admirable  dancers. 
Vol.  L— 14 


314:  ■        SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

The  palace  is  upon  the  Plaza  d' Armas,  the  great  square, 
embellished  with  statues,  fountains,  trees,  and  flowers. 
About  eleven  o'clock  we  were  all  invited  to  go  out  on  the 
balcony,  when  the  Captain- General  gave  a  signal  for  the 
serenata  (concert  in  the  open  air)  to  begin.  Ah !  how 
inexpressibly  bewitching  was  the  scene  around  us !  It 
appeared  the  realization  of  some  enchanting  dream.  The 
sky  was  like  a  dome  of  sapphire  hue,  encrusted  with  myriads 
of  stars,  while  the  full  moon  poured  over  the  waving  palms  a 
flood  of  silver  light. 

There  were  hundreds  of  volantes,  filled  with  gaily-dressed 
women,  drawn  up  near  the  Plaza,  and  beyond  them  lines  of 
soldiers  with  shining  bayonets.  Loud  pealed  the  strains  of 
national  music,  and  soft  female  voices  melted  and  mingled 
with  the  melody. 

During  the  evening  we  were  introduced  to  the  Captain- 
General  of  Porto  Eico,  who  will  be  our  compagnon  du 
voyage  in  the  Fernando  el  Catolico.  He  is  a  noble-looking 
man. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

Feh.  Qth. — We  went  this  morning  to  see  the  fish-market 
It  is  deemed  one  of  the  "  wonders  of  Cuba."  It  would  seem 
that  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  were  distinctly  visible  in 
the  glowing  hues  of  the  fish.  Blue,  red,  white,  violet,  gold- 
edged,  and  silver- tinted,  were  heaped  up  in  vast  piles,  quiv- 
ering and  dancing  in  the  sunlight.  Then  there  were  almost 
trees  of  coral,  and  a  profusion  of  sea-shells. 

In  the  afternoon,  by  the  permission  of  the  courteous 
Captain-General,  we  visited  the  Moro  Castle.  It  is  a  strong 
and  imposing  fortress,  built  on  the  great  rocks  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  harbor.  It  has  massive  walls,  high  towers,  and 
broad  battlements,  like  the  old  feudal  castles  of  Northern 
Europe.  There  were  several  officers  who  politely  conducted 
us  over  the  castle,  and  explained  to  us  many  curious  and 
death-dealing  instruments.  By  the  side  of  the  Moro,  and 
united  to  it,  in  truth,  is  the  farola  (light-house)  erected  by 
O'Donnell,  (once  the  Captain-General  of  the  island.)  It  is 
of  vast  height,  resembling  much  the  famous  "  Tower  of  the 
Clock"  at  Venice.  We  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  farola. 
The  view  thence  is  extended  and  magnificent.  The  bay  of 
Havana  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest  in  the  world ;  it  was 
crowded  with  vessels,  from  whose  mast-heads  floated  the  flags 


316  tiUUVENIKS    UF    TKAVEL. 

of  nearly  all  the  civilized  nations.  In  the  distance  was  the 
lofty  mountain-chain  which  traverses  Cuba  from  east  to 
west.  Around  the  city  were  many  hill-tops,  crowned  with 
forts,  whose  bastions  were  mounted  with  pieces  of  cannon,  all 
prepared  for  action.  The  Cabanas  is  quite  near  the  Moro, 
and  is  a  formidable  fortification. 

Feb.  10^^,  1855. — We  have  passed  the  last  three  days  in 
a  constant  routine  of  social  reunions,  drives  into  the  country, 
sailing  parties  on  the  bay,  and  promenades  in  the  lovely  palm- 
shaded  and  flower-decked  paseos. 

Last  night  we  were  at  a  splendid  ball  given  by  Mrs. 
Crawford  to  the  officers  of  the  British  fleet.  All  the  elite 
and  **  upper  ten  "  of  the  city  were  there,  exquisitely  dressed, 
and  dancing  with  a  soft  and  bewildering  grace,  which  seems 
to  melt  the  heart  to  pleasure.  Then  there  were  several 
amateurs  who  sang  delightfully,  and  the  lustrous-eyed  Con- 
chita,  who  again  enchanted  us  by  her  silver-toned  voice.  A 
cheerful,  free,  frank,  and  genial  tone  pervades  social  inter- 
course here,  which'  is  very  captivating  indeed.  Many  for- 
eigners live  in  Havana,  and  are  always  kind  to  strangers ; 
hence  our  sojourn  has  been  a  continued  festal-time,  like  the 
long  brightness  of  a  summer  day.  In  our  own  hotel  we  have 
found  the  most  obliging  goodness  in  Mrs.  Brewer  and  Mr. 
N.  In  truth,  they  make  all  their  guests  happy  and  at  home, 
and  many  pleasant  hours  have  we  spent  in  the  parlor,  where 
were  gathered  persons  from  nearly  all  the  States  in  the  Union, 
and  from  the  "  lands  beyond  the  sea."  Pleasure,  business, 
or  ill  health,  have  brought  them  here. 

The  number  of  invalids  we  meet  is  the  only  sad  feature 
in  Cuban  life.  To  some  persons,  the  atmosphere  is  like  a 
precious  balm,  or,  like  the  waters  of  tlie  fountain  long  sought 
by  Ponce  de  Leon,  restoring  the  invalid  to  health,  hope,  and 
joy.     There  are  others  again  to  whom  the  soft,  warm  breeze 


REVIEW  OF  THE  TROOPS.  317 

is  as  fatal  as  the  poisoned  wind  which  passes  over  the  upas  tree. 
Our  hearts  have  been  drawn  irresistibly  to  a  young  girl 
from  the  far-away  North.  She  has  brilliant  eyes,  delicate, 
rose-tinted  complexion,  and  a  rare  bewitchingness  of  man- 
ner. She  has  not  the  seeming  of  an  invalid,  yet  for  several 
years  the  first  cold  breath  of  the  winter  has  inflamed  her 
lungs,  and  the  hectic  fever  has  come  on.  Then  her  friends 
would  bring  her  to  Cuba,  weak  almost  unto  death.  In  a  few 
weeks  always  after  her  arrival,  her  strength  and  loveliness 
returned,  as  though  they  were  flowers  awakened  to  life  and 
beauty  by  the  influence  of  the  genial  spring. 

Feb.  llih,  1855. — We  passed  last  evening  in  the  family 
of  Dr.  F.,  cordial,  clever  people,  and  extremely  intelligent. 
Our  good  friends  Mr.  R.  and  his  wife  make  their,  home  with 
them. 

All  the  morning  we  were  making  our  farewell  visits,  and  in 
the  afternoon  drove  to  the  Gampo  de  Maries,  a  large  square 
without  the  walls,  where  a  review  of  the  troops  took  place 
by  the  Captain-General.  From  the  verandah  of  Mr.  Craw- 
ford's mansion  we  obtained  an  admirable  view  of  the  spirited 
spectacle.  All  the  balconies  and  house-tops  were  thronged 
with  persons,  while  thousands  encircled  the  railing  of  the 
Campo.  The  General  addressed  the  soldiers,  and  called 
upon  them  to  defend  the  rights  of  their  Queen  from  all 
invaders  ov  fillehusteros.  They  answered  him  by  loud  cries 
of  "  Viva  la  Heina  !  "  Then  the  bands  of  the  regiments 
pealed  forth  their  martial  strains,  and  cheers  and  huzzas 
filled  the  air.  The  Lancers,  on  Andalusian  horses,  were  very 
picturesque  in  appearance.  Upon  their  long  pikes  each  had 
a  small  red  and  yellow  flag,  typical  of  the  blood  and  gold  of 
old  Spain. 

During  the  evening  we  went  to  the  palace,  to  bid  adieu 
to  General  and  Madame  Concha,  and  to.  tell  them  how  truly 


I 


318  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

grateful  we  were  for  their  many  and  delightful  courtesies  and 
pleasant  attentions.  From  thence  we  drove  to  the  Tacon, 
which  was  immensely  thronged,  as  it  was  a  gala-night.  The 
boxes  were  filled  with  elegantly-attired  women,  sparkling 
with  jewels,  and  fluttering  their  gorgeous  fans.  Handsome 
English  and  Spanish  ofl&cers  were  sprinkled  amid  the  audi- 
ence, and  loud  and  enthusiastic  were  the  demonstrations  of 
applause.  The  opera  was  "  Don  Giovanni,"  superbly  ren- 
dered by  Steffauonc  and  Manzini,  by  Salvi,  Beneventano,  and 
Marini. 

Feb.  12th,  1855. — This  is  our  last  day  in  America,  and 
our  parting  moments  have  been  cheered  by  letters  from  my 
darling  mother,  from  my  father,  and  tidings  from  my  child. 
They  are  all  well,  and  hopeful  of  Our  safe  arrival  in  the  Old 
World.  AVe  are  ready  to  depart.  Multitudes  of  friends 
have  called  to  say  "  God  speed  you,"  and  our  hearts  are  fill- 
ed with  tenderness  when  we  think  of  the  affectionate  kind- 
ness which  has  greeted  us  on  this  beautiful  island,  I  am 
seated  with  my  bonnet  on,  writing  my  last  words,  and  they 
are  blessings  upon  my  mother,  my  father,  and  my  child. 
Blessings  upon  the  friends  who  love  me !  Should  this  be 
the  last  line  my  hand  ever  traces,  may  the  memory  of  me 
never  awaken  a  pang  in  a  human  heart,  but  linger  around  it 
like  the  aroma  of  precious  flowers.  In  peace  and  good  feel- 
ing to  the  whole  world,  I  venture  upon  the  perils  of  the 
vast  ocean,  with  a  firm  assurance  of  the  protection  of  that 
mighty  Power  "  who  ruleth  over  earth  and  sea." 

"  Come  !  come  !  the  boat  is  waiting !  "  is  the  impatient 
summons,  and  now  one  more  word ;  and  it  shall  be  a  bless- 
ing, a  soul-freighted  blessing  to  my  mother,  my  father,  and 
my  child. 


CHAPTER    XXXY. 

Cadiz,  March  Zd,  1855. 
"  0  lovely  Spain !  renowned,  romantic  land ! " 

It  was  a  gloriously  bright  afternoon  when  we  left  the  har- 
bor of  Havana.  Never  had  the  city  appeared  more  beauti- 
ful than  when  we  looked  upon  it  for  the  last  time,  and  waved 
our  hands  to  many  friends  standing  on  the  Oortena  to  catch 
a  parting  glance. 

The  Fernando  el  Catolico  soon  passed  the  majestic  Moro, 
and  bowed  down  as  it  were  in  reverence  to  the  mighty  waters. 
Then  rose  up  my  old  enemy  of  the  sea,  and  in  a  few  moments, 
confessing  myself  vanquished,  they  carried  me  to  the  regions 
below,  and  put  me  into  a  coffin-like  berth.  Oh !  the  horrors 
of  that  long  night  are  indescribable.  Solomon  said,  "  0  that 
mine  enemy  would  write  a  book !  "  He  had  never  been  sea- 
sick, surely,  or  he  would  have  invoked  that  fearful  malady 
upon  him. 

Next  morning  M.  D.  found  me  so  ill  that  he  carried  me 
upon  deck,  and  then,  by  the  kind  permission  of  the  excellent 
Captain  Paez,  into  the  saloon,  where  he  allowed  me  to  re- 
main during  all  the  voyage.  Ah !  how  often  did  we  bless 
him,  as  we  enjoyed  the  pure  air  and  bright  sunshine,  for  his 


320  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

goodness.  Although  compelled  to  lie  upon  a  sofa  nearly  all 
the  time,  still  the  intense  suifering  ceased,  and  pleasantly 
and  merrily  passed  away  the  eighteen  days  of  our  life  on  the 
splendid  steamer.  When  we  became  acquainted  with  the 
passengers,  we  were  exceedingly  pleased  with  them.  They 
were  generally  from  the  Spanish  islands,  or  from  South 
America  and  Mexico.  We  were  the  only  Americans  from 
the  States,  and  save  Mrs.  Crawford,  of  Mobile,  none  others 
had  ever  taken  this  route,  so  far  preferable  to  either  the 
Collins  or  Cunard  line  of  steamers.  Then  the  delight  of 
sailing  over  a  tropical  sea,  far  removed  from  the  icy  winds 
and  rude  storms  of  the  north. 

The  Fernando  el  Catolico  is  a  war-steamer,  built  near 
London,  with  the  finest  machinery,  and  skillful  English  en- 
gineers to  manage  it.  A  Captain  of  the  Navy  commands  the 
ship.  There  are  four  lieutenants,  surgeon,  purser,  and  a 
priest,  who  said  mass  the  two  Sundays  we  were  on  board,  all 
the  officers  and  crew  assembling  to  hear  it. 

General  Bustillos,  recently  the  Admiral  of  the  Fleet,  oc- 
cupied the  Captain's  cabin,  with  his  suite  of  officers.  He 
was  an  exceedingly  elegant  man.  Then  there  was  the  Cap- 
tain-General of  Porto  Rico,  and  his  agreeable  family,  and 
Judge  Bamondi  and  his  charming  wife,  a  pleasant  couple 
from  Rio  Janeiro ;  also  Senor  Baz,  an  exile  from  Mexico, 
whence  he  had  been  banished  by  the  tyranny  of  Santa  Anna, 
not  even  allowed  to  say  a  parting  word  to  his  wife  or  chil- 
dren. He  was  a  most  gifted  person,  and  although  at  times 
very  sad,  he  would  say,  "  Away  with  sorrow,  brighter  days 
are  coming." 

Our  interest  was  deeply  touched  by  a  little  Cuban  girl, 
Dolores,  who  had  been  married  the  day  we  left  by  proxy. 
Her  lover  was  an  officer  of  the  navy,  to  whom  she  had  been  en- 
gaged for  three  years.     When  he  discovered  he  could  not 


SENSE   OF   SECURITY COURTESY   OF   OFFICERS.      321 

obtain  "  leave  of  absence  "  to  seek  her,  he  wrote  and  im- 
plored her  to  marry  him  by  proxy,  and,  as  his  wife  come  to 
Spain,  where  he  would  meet  her.  Like  a  loving  woman  she 
consented,  and  left  home  and  parents  for  him.  She  was 
dreadfully  ill,  and  her  plaintive  words  of  grief,  and  her 
sighing  for  her  own  kindred,  were  most  affecting.  A  small 
negro-girl  accompanied  her,  and  we  often  saw  them  weeping 
together.  The  thought  came  to  me  many  times,  as  I  looked 
at  her,  Will  the  man  for  whom  this  fond  young  heart  has  sac- 
rificed so  much,  love  her  the  more  for  it  ?  , 

The  weather  was  charming,  and  the  good  ship  stanch 
and  steady.  For  three  days  only  there  was  a  rough  sea.  One 
night  we  fancied  a  terrific  storm  had  arisen,  and  that  we 
were  in  great  peril ;  but  the  Captain  came  in  and  told  us  it 
was  only  a  "  high  wind,"  thus  destroying  the  thrilling  de- 
scription I  was  weaving  in  my  mind  of  a  tempest  on  the 
Atlantic. 

Never  before  at  sea  has  such  a  feeling  of  security  pos- 
sessed me,  resulting  no  doubt  from  the  constant  watchfulness 
manifested  to  us.  During  the  hours  of  the  night,  every  ten 
minutes  we  would  hear  the  cry  of  the  guard  on  deck 
"Alerta!  alerta!  alerta !  "  and  thus  we  sank  to  sleep,  with 
the  certainty  of  a  careful  watch  to  protect  us.  The  ofiicers 
were  well-educated  and  interesting  men.  They  had  seen 
many  foreign  lands,  and  narrated  their  impressions  of  them 
in  a  graphic  and  pleasing  manner.  The  earliest  days  of  my 
remembrance  were  passed  amid  the  Spanish  people,  and  they 
were  always  highly  valued ;  but  now  my  admiration  for  them 
is  greater  still,  their  graceful  civilities  in  the  daily  inter- 
course of  life  are  so  refined  and  genial.  Cold  hearts  may 
say  "  they  are  only  words,"  yet  they  give  a  charm  to  ordi- 
nary objects,  and  linger  long  within  the  memory. 

Our  excellent  friend   Navarro  was  on   board,  and  many 
Vol.  I.— U* 


322  SOUVENIRS    OF    TRAVEL. 

long  hours  he  cheered,  either  with  gay  conversation  or  amus- 
ing books.  Another  young  officer  pleased  us  all  extremely. 
His  name  was  Vicente  do  Maiiterola.  He  was  handsome, 
graceful,  and  intelligent ;  a  bright,  glad  spirit  shone  out  in 
all  his  words,  and  a  warm  heart  in  his  kindness  to  the 
strangers. 

The  nights  were  enchanting — moonlighted,  and  the 
heavens  glittering  with  the  glorious  constellations  of  the 
South.  We  frequently  walked  the  upper  deck  for  hours, 
gazing»upon  them,  and  watching  the  long  line  of  phosphoric 
radiance  which  followed  our  steamer.  Our  last  look  was  al- 
ways to  the  western  stars,  shining  over  our  home,  and  our 
last  thought  was  of  the  dear  ones  there.  Oh  !  it  is  only  in 
absence  the  heart  can  reckon  up  the  wealth  of  love  which  a 
fond  mother  has  lavished ;  and  my  very  soul  pours  itself 
forth  in  prayer  for  her  safety,  as  we  float  awa}^ 

When  it  was  too  chill  to  walk  on  deck,  we  would  all 
gather  in  the  saloon,  and  spend  such  merry,  joyous  evenings. 
Songs,  and  pleasant  talk,  and  stories  of  the  past,  were  gaily 
mingled.  At  eleven,  almost  as  quickly  as  the  Cinderella  of 
the  fairy  books,  the  company  vanished,  as  there  was  an  order 
to  extinguish  the  lights  at  that  hour.  AVhen  all  were  gone, 
the  good  steward,  Luigi,  arranged  our  sofas  side  by  side,  and 
we  talked  of  home  until  sleep  came,  and  then  in  dreams  we 
were  there  again. 

Our  last  day  on  board,  the  good  Dominga  (our  waiting- 
woman)  awakened  us  long  before  the  dawn,  saying,  *'  Come, 
Senora,  go  with  me  on  deck,  and  see  the  day  arise."  We 
did  so,  and  were  charmed  with  the  beautiful  scene.  At  first 
the  sk}^  was  "deeply,  darkly  blue,"  and  the  stars  were  gleam- 
ing with  a  brightness  never  seen  in  more  northern  regions. 
Slowly  a  gauzy  veil  seemed  wafting  over  them,  and  along  the 
East  sprang  up,  as  it  were,  banners  of  purple  and  rose- color. 


MEETINGS    AND    GREETINGS.  323 

and  the  intense  azure  of  the  heavens  melted  into  a  soft  gray 
hue.  Soon  streaks  of  golden  light  flashed  through  it,  and 
the  glorious  sun  came  forth,  converting  the  mirror-like  ocean 
into  a  sea  of  radiance,  burnished  and  glittering  like  myriads 
of  gems.     And  this  was  morning  upon  the  Atlantic  ! 

At  mid-day  there  was  a  cry  of  tierra  !  Uerra  !  (land  ! 
land  !)  which  sent  a  thrill  of  joy  to  many  hearts.  "We  had 
seen  none,  except  the  island  of  Santa  3Iaria,  (one  of  the 
Azores,  near  which  we  passed,)  since  we  left  the  Antilles. 
We  ran  on  deck,  and  in  a  few  moments 

"Fair  Cadiz,  rising  from  the  dark  blue  sea," 

was  revealed  to  our  longing  eyes.  Like  a  great  white  dove, 
with  out-spread  wings,  resting  upon  the  calm  waters,  ap- 
peared the  distant  city.  Ah  !  long  shall  I  remember  the 
delight  of  that  first  look  upon  lovely  Cadiz  !  The  day  was 
exquisite  ;  thcS-ir  fresh  and  balmy,  and  the  sea  like  a  smooth 
inland  lake.  Gentle  spirits  seemed  hovering  around  to  wel- 
come us,  while  a  warm,  glowing  pleasure  filled  our  hearts. 
Nearer  and  nearer  we  approached,  domes,  spires,  and 
turrets  gradually  rising  to  view,  until  the  entire  outline  of 
the  city,  with  its  snow-white  houses  and  green  alamedas,  was 
before  us.  A  few  more  hours,  and  we  were  within  the  bay, 
and  had  heard  the  joyful  words  "  No  hai  quarentena,"  (There 
is  no  quarantine,)  from  the  health  ofiicer.  Then  on  board 
came  rushing  motley  groups  of  people,  in  strange  costumes — 
they  might  have  well  served  for  the  figurantes  in  the  opera 
of  Masaniello.  The  Andalucian  boatmen  were  truly  pic- 
turesque, with  their  round  velvet  hats,  curiously  embroidered, 
and  yellow  tagged  jackets,  and  wide  red  sashes  about  the 
waist.  What  a  Babel  of  tongues  !  what  grasping  of  hands — 
waving  of  arms  ! — what  shouts  of  joy,  and  fond  greetings  of 
the  long  parted  !     Oh  !  how  my  heart  thrilled  towards  the 


324  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

happy  ones,  and  snatched  by  anticipation  a  share  of  our  own 
welcome  home. 

Eager  crowds  were  hurrying  into  the  boats,  and  we  were 
about  descending  the  stairway  when  I  thought  of  Dolores, 
(the  little  Cuban  bride.)  Running  back,  we  found  her  weep- 
ing wildly.  A  friend  of  her  husband  had  come  off  to  tell 
her  he  had  gone  ou  a  cruise  along  the  coast  of  Africa.  Seat- 
ing myself  by  her  side,  I  strove  to  comfort  her ;  but  she  only 
could  say,  "  Oh !  in  my  own  home  there  were  so  many  to 
love  me.  I  left  all  for  him,  and  now  he  is  not  here  to  meet 
me !  "  Poor  girl !  it  was  truly  a  sad  grief.  Thus  we  left 
her,  whispering,  "  Surely,  your  lover  will  repay  you  for  all 
you  have  suffered  " — (though  it  must  be  confessed  I  did  not 
think  he  would). 

Our  excellent  Luigi  soon  had  a  felucca  ready  for  us. 
This  is  a  clumsy  boat,  with  sails  and  oars.  It  was  just  be- 
fore sunset  when  we  pulled  off  from  the  splendid  Fernando  el 
Catolico,  our  pleasant  home  for  eighteen  days.  We  really 
felt  regret  to  leave.  It  was  certainly  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  had  ever  experienced  aught  but  delight  to  quit  the  con- 
finement of  a  ship  :  but  our  voyage  had  been  so  different  from 
all  others  we  had  ever  made,  so  charming  and  cheerful. 

We  were  only  one  mile  from  the  city,  which  was  glowing 
in  the  sun's  last  rays.  We  urged  the  boatmen  to  hasten  on ; 
still,  ere  we  reached  the  quai,  the  evening  gun  came  booming 
over  the  waters,  and  the  gates  of  the  city  were  closed.  But 
fortunately,  Manterola,  our  handsome  young  friend,  was  with 
us,  and  he  explained  to  the  soldiers  of  the  guard  that  we 
were  "  peaceful  people,"  so  they  permitted  our  immediate 
entrance.  We  were  agreeably  impressed  by  the  aspect  of  the 
city,  as  we  walked  along  its  narrow  streets.  It  is  wonder- 
fully neat  and  clean.  The  houses  are  five  or  six  stories  high, 
and  each  window  has  a  pretty  little  balcony,  into  which  it 


brip:f  iiistokical  sketch  of  cadiz.  325 

opens.  We  found  exceedingly  good  rooms  at  the  Fonda  de 
Cuatro  NacioneSs  and  a  dinner  only  to  be  matched  at  the 
Trois  Frtres  or  the  Maison  Doree  of  the  Boulevards  des 
Italiens. 

After  a  long  voyage  in  a  steamer,  it  is  quite  impossible 
to  sleep  the  first  night  on  shore.  We  were  constantly  start- 
ing from  our  troubled  dreams,  fancying  from  the  quietude 
some  accident  had  befallen  us,  as  we  heard  no  longer  the 
regular  pulsation  of  the  great  engine,  which  had  almost  be- 
come a  part  of  our  existence,  having  listened  to  it  for  eighteen 
days  and  nights. 

Cadiz  is  a  very  ancient  city.  It  was  founded  by  the 
Phoenicians,  hundreds  of  years  before  the  building  of  Home. 
Upon  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  city  is  the  figure  of  Hercules, 
by  whom  the  inhabitants  say  it  was  built.  Then  came  the 
dominion  of  the  Moors,  and  afterwards  the  Spaniards.  When 
America  was  discovered,  a  golden  prosperity  beamed  upon 
Cadiz,  which  was  lost  as  soon  as  the  Spanish  Possessions  in 
the  New  World  proclaimed  themselves  free.  It  is  strictly  a 
commercial  place,  and  has  now  only  a  population  of  sixty 
thousand.  The  city  is  upon  a  rocky  point  of  land,  joined  to 
the  peninsula  by  a  narrow  isthmus.  The  sea  surrounds  it 
on  three  sides,  beating  against  the  walls,  and  often  throwing 
the  spray  over  the  ramparts.  On  the  fourth  side  it  is  pro- 
tected by  a  strong  wall,  and  bridges  over  the  wide  ditch. 
At  night  they  are  drawn  up,  thus  isolating  the  town  com- 
pletely. 

The  fish-market  of  Cadiz  is  said  to  be  the  best  in  the 
world,  and  the  most  remarkable  variety  were  served  up  to  us 
at  breakfast ;  after  which  we  walked  around  the  city.  The 
sea-ramparts  extend  at  least  four  miles.  They  serve  as  a 
protection  against  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic,  which  come 
rolling  in -upon  them  with  vast  power.     They  are  a  source  of 


326  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

expense  and  anxiety  to  the  people,  and  yet  as  necessary  to 
the  preservation  of  their  city  as  are  the  dikes  of  Holland  or 
the  levees  along  the  Mississippi. 

The  Alameda  is  delightful.  It  is  planted  with  trees,  and 
is  just  upon  the  wall  looking  ocean-ward.  In  the  centre  is  a 
statue  of  Hercules,  (the  founder  of  the  city.)  Upon  this 
promenade  appear  at  evening  all  the  bewitching  GaditanaSj 
thus  called  in  the  time  of  the  Romans,  from  the  name  of  the 
city,  which  was  Gades.  They  were  celebrated  even  then  for 
their  wonderful  fascination,  and  though  all  else  is  changed, 
that  charm  still  is  possessed  by  the  women  of  Cadiz.  It  is 
not  so  much  the  beauty  of  feature,  but  the  wondrous  grace 
and  waving  movement  of  form  as  they  glide  along  the  shaded 
walks,  playing  daintily  with  their  fans.  This  undulating  mo- 
tion, so  captivating,  is  styled  the  air  of  the  Gaditanas — the 
manner,  or  air,  peculiar  to  them.  From  the  Moors,  many 
inherited  the  large  almond-shaped  eyes,  which  they  have  a 
fashion  of  fixing  upon  one  with  a  long,  bewildering  gaze, 
quite  enough,  it  may  be  imagined,  to  turn  the  head  of  a 
youth,  and  destroy  the  philosophic  indifference  of  Vhomme 
hlase.  Their  hands  are  delicately  formed,  and  their  feet 
excessively  small,  without  the  long  flowing  skirts  of  the  pres- 
ent mode  to  hide  them.  Black  seems  the  favorite  color  of 
their  dresses.  Their  hair  is  elaborately  braided,  and  over  it 
is  thrown  the  black  lace  mantilla,  certainly  the  most  grace- 
ful covering  for  the  head  ever  invented.  The  men  we  met 
were  robust  and  healthful  in  appearance,  with  a  springy, 
jaunty  walk,  seemingly  well  content  with  themselves  and 
"  the  rest  of  the  world.*" 

As  we  passed  along  the  streets,  and  looked  up  at  the  bal- 
conies hanging  over  them,  I  often  thought  of  the  "  girl  of 
Cadiz,"  described  by  Byron,  and  wished  a  vision  as  lovely 
might  meet  my  eyes.     At  last,  coming  to  a  balcony  enclosed 


THE    DARK-EYED    MAID    OF    CADIZ.  327 

in  glass,  and  filled  with  brilliant  flowers,  a  face  appeared 
above  them  radiant  with  youth  and  beauty.  The  eyes  were 
large  and  startlingly  bright,  and  the  lips  fresh  as  "moist 
coral."  Allowing  the  party  to  pass  on,  I  stopped  to  gaze 
upon  her,  enchanted  that  I  had  realized  the  poet's  descrip- 
tion : 

*'  Prometheus-like,  from  Heaven  she  stole 
The  fire  that  through  those  silken  lashes 
In  darkest  glances  seems  to  roll, 
From  eyes  that  cannot  hide  their  flashes. 
Through  many  a  clime  'tis  mine  to  roam, 
Where  many  a  soft  and  lovely  maid  is, 
But  none  abroad,  and  few  at  home, 
May  match  the  dark-eyed  girl  of  Cadiz." 

Admiration  is  always  appreciated  in  these  sunny  climes,  and 
the  young  creature  evidently  reading  it  in  my  face,  smiled, 
and  gracefully  waved  her  hand  as  I  walked  away. 

On  Sunday  we  accompanied  our  Consul,  Mr.  Burton,  a 
kind  old  gentleman,  to  the  cathedral.  It  is  very  large  and 
handsome.  The  interior  has  fine  marbles  and  sculpture. 
The  pillars  dividing  the  aisles  are  immense,  each  one  consist- 
ing of  six  Corinthian  columns,  around  the  centre  shaft. 
There  are  but  few  pictures.  In  the  Academia  we  saw  the 
last  painting  of  Murillo.  He  fell  from  the  scaffolding  while 
working  upon  it,  broke  his  leg,  and  was  taken  to  Seville, 
where  he  died  in  a  few  months.  This  picture,  to  which  there- 
fore a  touching  interest  is  imparted,  represents  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  St.  Catherine."  Portions  of  it  were  finished  by  his 
pupil  Osorio,  but  wherever  the  hand  of  the  great  master  had 
over  laid  the  first  color,  it  was  respected  sacredly.  Hence 
the  painting  has  an  unfinished  look. 

Mr.  Burton  carried  us  to  the  old  Moorish  gateway,  which 
still  remains  as  a  record  of  their  departed  glory. 


328  SOUVENIRS    01?   TRAVEL. 

At  night  we  accompanied  a  party  to  the  theatre,  to  see 
a  zarzuela  (vaudeville),  which  was  admirably  mise  en  scene 
and  acted.  After  it  came  the  Spanish  national  dances. 
We  had  seen  them  executed  in  Paris,  by  the  troupe  of  Petra 
Camera,  but  they  were  but  as  a  shadow  to  the  wild  abandon 
of  those  we  witnessed  here.  Among  them  was  the  Jaleo  de 
Xeres,  introduced  in  America  by  the  famous  Fanny  Ellsler. 
There  was  a  wonderful  bounding  grace  in  the  movements  of 
the  dancer — an  impassioned  light  within  her  great  glittering 
eyes,  thrilling  to  behold.  Then  followed  several  other  tumul- 
tuous dances,  ending  with  a  love-scene  between  two  peasants, 
called  the  Maja  and  the  Majo.  Their  costume  was  singu- 
larly picturesque.  The  girl  seemed  very  young,  with  a  lithe 
and  graceful  form,  enveloped  in  a  say  a  (petticoat)  of  rather 
moderate  length,  thus  revealing  well-rounded  legs  and  deli- 
cate feet.  A  velvet  bodice  covered  her  bosom,  so  perfectly 
adjusted  to  the  form,  it  appeared  painted  upon  it.  Around 
the  small  waist  was  a  faja  (scarf),  with  the  ends  hanging 
down.  The  youth  was  decked  out  in  a  rich  jacket,  slashed 
with  velvet,  and  a  vest  bright  with  buttons.  Then  crimson 
breeches,  gay-colored  stockings,  and  delicate  slippers.  Both 
-wore  the  round  velvet  hat  of  Andalucia,  and  both  were 
strikingly  handsome.  They  passed  through  all  the  phases  of 
"  love-making,"  admiration,  hope,  hesitation,  fear.  When  the 
Majo  advanced,  the  maiden  fled ;  when  he  affected  to  fly,  she 
quickly  pursued,  and  thus  they  proceeded,  at  times  with  slow 
and  languid  steps,  then  with  fierce,  wild  eagerness,  the  music 
well  illustrating  the  various  emotions  of  the  dancers,  until 
the  Maja  yielded  her  hand  to  the  lover,  and  then  with  inter- 
lacing arms  they  bent  low  before  the  audience,  and  ended 
their  animated  and  voluptuous  dance. 

There  are  no  chimneys  to  the  houses,  and  during  the  morn- 
ing it  was  really  cold.     Complaining  of  this,  they  brought  a 


POINTS    OF    INTEREST    ABOUT    CADIZ.  329 

hrasero  into  our  parlor,  filled  Avitli  charcoal.  Around  this 
we  gathered.  What  a  contrast  to  our  good  coal-fires  at 
home  !  However,  at  mid-day  we  walked  out  and  found  the 
paseos  all  filled  with  the  Gaditanas,  their  veils  floating  back, 
and  their  fans  gaily  fluttering.  The  Plaza  de  Mina  is  plant- 
ed with  orange  trees,  beneath  which  are  numerous  stone 
benches.  Many  persons  were  seated  upon  them  to  enjoy  the 
sunshine,  both  its  brightness  and  its  warmth.  Again  were 
we  attracted  by  the  peculiar  walk  of  the  women,  so  natural 
in  its  grace,  and  so  attractive.  We  did  not  wonder  Byron 
should  have  written, 

"  When  Paphos  fell  by  Time, — accursed  Time! 
The  Queen  who  conquers  all,  must  yieldto  thee, — 
The  Pleasures  fled,  but  sought  as  warm  a  clime ; 
And  Venus,  constant  to  her  native  sea, 
To  nought  else  constant,  hither  deigned  to  flee, 
"  And  fixed  her  shrine  within  these  walls  of  white." 

The  Gaditanas  are  excessively  fond  of  flowers,  and  as  they 
have  no  gardens  or  yards  wherein  to  cultivate  them,  they 
convert  their  balconies,  very  often,  into  small  conservatories, 
or  place  great  vases,  filled  with  plants  and  diminutive  trees, 
upon  the  flat  roofs  of  the  houses ;  thus  imparting  a  gay  and 
cheerful  aspect  to  the  city.  In  the  midst  of  these  masses  of 
flowers  were  frequently  seated  the  females  of  the  family,  sew- 
ing, or  playing  the  guitar. 

Not  far  from  Cadiz  is  the  town  of  Zeres,  where  the 
famous  sherry  wine  is  made.  There  are,  likewise,  many 
other  points  of  interest  around  it.  Upon  La  Ida  is  a  for- 
tress, said  to  have  been  built  upon  the  site  of  the  "  Temple 
of  Hercules."  Then  th'ere  is  La  Carraca,  (the  navy-yard,) 
where  Caesar  moored  his  long  galleys,  and  where  lay  tlie 
galleons,  called  the  "  Twelve  Apostles,"  filled  with  treasure 
taken  by  Essex.     At  the  Carraca  a  school  is  established, 


SODVENIKS    OF   TRAVEL. 

very  like  our  institution  of  West  Point,  where  naval  of&cers 
are  educated,  and  are  tauglit,  in  addition  to  the  nautical 
science,  the  languages,  and  the  elegant  accomplishments  of 
society.  St  Ferncndo  and  La  Puerta  are  towns  near  by. 
They  have  immense  warehouses,  where  the  sherry  wines  are 
brought  previous  to  their  transportation  to  foreign  lands. 

March  7th. — At  ten  this  morning  we  left  our  excellent 
hotel  of  the  "  Four  Nations,"  and  passed  down  along  the 
sea-wall  to  the  Mole,  where  we  embarked  in  the  Teodosio. 
A  small  cabin  on  the  deck  had  been  taken  for  us,  and  thus 
we  were  very  comfortable.  .  After  a  long  delay,  the  steamer 
started  and  moved  slowly  away  from  the  city.  It  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  brigbtest  and  freshest-looking  towns  I  ever 
gazed  upon.  The  white  houses,  with  the  green  balconies  at 
every  window,  seemed  in  the  distance  as  though  myriads  of 
vines  were  climbing  up  them. 

Leaving  the  bay,  we  plunged  into  the  long  rolling  bil- 
lows of  the  Atlantic,  and  bade 

"  Adieu !  fair  Cadiz,  a  long  adieu  !" 

then  turning  the  cape,  upon  which  was  once  the  Phoenician 
light-house  called  "  the  Rock  of  the  Sun,"  we  caine  to  St. 
Lucar.  There  Magellan  fitted  out  the  fleet  which  first  cir- 
cumnavigated the  globe.  The  Infanta  and  the  Duke  de 
Montpensier  have  a  palace  near  the  town,  where  they  spend 
the  summer.  Not  far  from  St.  Lucar  we  entered  the  river,  the 
Wada-l-Kehir  of  the  Arabs,  and  the  Len  Baro  of  the  gipsies. 
Many  poets  have  sung  its  praises  as  "  bright  and  flowing," 
but  reality  showed  us  a  dark,  muddy  stream,  moving  lazily 
between  flat,  sterile  banks,  while  afar  ofi"  was  the  Marisma, 
a  barren  waste,  where  herds  of  cattle,  flocks  of  sheep,  and 
multitudes  of  horses,  were  grazing.  Now  and  then  we  saw  a 
miserable  peasant,  the  shepherd  of  these  flocks,  standing  by 


ATALAYAS THE   CONVENT ^THE   PINE.  331 

his  straw  hut.  Along  the  verge  of  the  horizon  was  a  chain 
of  mountains,  upon  whose  dark  surface  gleamed  many  white 
villages,  and  at  regular  intervals  rose  up  the  atalayas, 
erected  by  Hannibal.  They  were  used  to  transmit  intelli- 
gence of  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  and  clouds  of  smoke  by 
day  and  fire  by  night  were  the  signals  used.  Pliny  speaks  of 
them  as  the  "  terror  of  pirates,"  and  Charles  the  Fifth  deemed 
them  so  useful,  he  caused  them  to  be  repaired.  They  are 
built  of  a  composition  called  tapia^  which  time  hardens  into 
solid  stone.  We  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Tinto,  upon 
which  stands  the  convent  where  Columbus,  an  outcast  and 
wanderer,  received  charity  from  the  kind  prior,  who  inter- 
ceded with  Isabella,  and  thus  forwarded'  the  plans  of  the 
great  discoverer.  Ere  Columbus  sailed,  he  made  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  convent,  and  received  the  blessing  of  the 
aged  monk. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  we  came  to  plains  of  verdant  grass, 
dotted  here  and  there  with  a  curious  tree  called  the  pine. 
It  is  without  branches  on  the  trunk,,  but  at  the  top  they 
spread  out  precisely  like  an  umbrella.  Advancing  higher 
up  the  stream,  we  saw  occasionally  a  small  village,  half 
hidden  amid  the  orange  trees,  and  by  the  margin  of  the 
river,  a  strip  of  yellow  sand,  upon  which  the  young  peasants 
were  walking.  As  I  looked  upon  them,  how  freshly  to  my 
mind  arose  the  pretty  little  poem  of  "  Fidelity,"  written 
long  years  ago  by  a  Spanish  author : 

"  One  eve  of  beauty,  when  the  sun 
Was  on  the  stream  of  Guadalquivir, 
To  gold  converting,  one  by  one, 
The  ripples  of  that  mighty  river, 
Beside  me  on  the  bank  was  seated 
A  Seville  girl  with  dark  brown  hair, 
And  eyes  that  might  the  world  have  cheated — 
A  wild,  bright,  wicked,  diamond  pair. 


332  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

"  She  stooped,  and  wrote  upon  the  sand, 
Just  as  the  loving  sun  was  going. 
With  such  a  fair,  white,  shining  hand, 
I  could  have  sworn  'twas  silver  flowing: 
Her  words  were  three,  and  not  one  more. 
What  could  Juanita's  motto  be  ? 
The  Syren  wrote  upon  the  shore, 
'  Death^  not  Inconstancy ! ' 

"  And  then  her  two  large,  languid  eyes 
So  fell  on  mine,  that,  devil  take  me ! 
I  could  have  fired  the  world  with  sighs, 
And  was  the  fool  she  chose  to  make  me. 
St.  Francis  would  have  been  deceived 
With  such  an  eye  and  such  a  hand ; 
But  one  week  more !  and  I  believed 
As  much  the  woman  as  the  sand," 

Just  as  the  Giralda,  the  great  tower  of  the  cathedral, 
came  in  sight,  we  made  a  turn  in  the  river,  and  found  our- 
selves passing  between  groves,  or  rather  forests  of  orange 
trees,  laden  with  the  golden-hued  fruit.  Never,  even  in 
tropical  lands,  had  we  seen  such  immense  trees.  There 
were  multitudes  of  men,  women,  and  children  gathering  the 
oranges,  and  placing  them  in  piles  like  mimic  mountains. 
Along  the  bank  were  sloops  and  schooners,  into  which  sailors 
were  shovelling  the  fruit  as  they  do  "  coals  at  Newcastle." 
Then  we  came  to  the  olive  groves,  sober  and  subdued  like  a 
pretty  widow  in  half-mourning.  The  trees  are  planted  in 
long  lines,  and  every  hill  and  small  eminence  was  decked 
with  them,  as  though  they  wore  a  coronet. 

We  anchored  just  near  Las  Delicias  (the  Delights),  the 
public  walk  of  the  Sevillianos.  Fancy  could  scarcely  pic- 
ture a  more  lovely  scene  than  that  which  met  our  eyes  in 
the  soft  light  of  that  exquisite  evening.  The  paseo  is  appro- 
priately named.     It  is  indeed  the  abode  of  delight^  and  ex- 


PLEASANT    WKLCUME.  333 

tends  one  mile  along  the  Guadalquivir.  There  are  avenues 
of  orange  trees,  and  gardens  of  flowers,  bowers  of  roses,  ar- 
bors of  jessamine,  and  sparkling  fountains.  Through  it 
passes  a  carriage-road,  where  many  elegant  equipages  were 
driving,  and  noble  and  gallant  cavallcros  prancing  along  on 
their  fine  steeds  of  the  true  Andalucian  blood.  There  were 
crowds  of  persons  of  every  variety  of  station  and  dress.  The 
women  wore  the  graceful  mantilla  of  silk  or  lace,  and  the 
men  had  great  cloaks  almost  like  the  Roman  toga.  One  end 
of  the  cape  they  adroitly  cast  over  the  mouth,  when  they 
first  leave  a  room  and  encounter  the  cold  air. 

AYe  landed,  and  ascended  the  bank  through  a  dense 
crowd  of  people.  But  it  was  not  like  the  throngs  of  other 
cities ;  as  we  approached,  they  all  made  way  for  us,  taking 
off  their  caps  and  hats  in  the  most  graceful  manner,  and 
bowing  to  us.  Thus  we  entered  "proud  Seville."  Our 
bonnets  were  evidently  curiosities  to  them,  and  told  at  once 
we  were  English  or  Americans,  and  therefore  strangers;  and 
in  no  part  of  the  world  are  strangers  more  kindly  treated 
than  in  Spain.  Ah  !  how  often  in  our  wanderings  there  did 
we  meet  the  warm  and  cordial  greeting  of  those  who  only 
knew  us  to  be  from  a  foreign  laud  !  How  many  pleasant 
attentions  encircled  us  !  How  many  gratifying  incidents  at- 
tended our  sojourn !  And  these  came  not  only  from  those 
of  high  position  in  society,  but  from  the  peasants,  and  lower 
classes  of  people  chance  threw  us  among. 

The  beauty  and  the  animation  of  Las  Delicias  were  so 
inviting,  we  lingered  there  until  it  was  deep  night;  then 
taking  a  carriage,  drove  rapidly  through  the  narrow  streets 
to  the  Fonda  de  Paris,  where  we  have  a  charming  apart- 
ment, with  frescoed  ceiling,  looking  out  upon  La  Plaza  de 
la  JMagdelena.  And  now  to  sleep,  and  return  in  dreams  to 
my  own  dear  home. 


CHAPTER    XXXYI. 

"  Fair  is  proud  Sevillo  ;  let  bor  country  boast 
Ilcr  strength,  her  wealth,  her  site  of  ancient  days.'* 

March  Sth. — Seville  is  truly  an  interesting  city,  and  we 
passed  several  days  there  in  the  most  delightful  manner. 
Although  founded  iu  the  time  of  the  Phoenicians,  it  only  be« 
came  famous  in  the  reign  of  Julius  Coesar,  who  gave  it  all 
his  patronage,  and  called  it  "  Little  Rome."  When  the 
Moors  captured  it,  they  destroyed  the  Roman  houses,  and 
with  the  materials  built  up  dwellings  after  their  own  graceful 
and  peculiar  style.  Thus  Seville  remains  more  purely 
Moorish  in  architecture  than  any  other  town  in  Spain. 

Our  first  visit,  of  course,  was  to  the  cathedral.  In  1163 
Abu  Yusuf  erected  on  the  great  square  a  noble  mosque, 
which  was  pulled  down  two  hundred  years  afterwards,  and 
the  present  vast  Gothic  structure  built  up  in  its  place.  The 
nave  only  needs  a  few  feet  to  make  it  as  high  as  that  of 
St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  The  oblong  form  of  the  ancient  mosque 
has  been  retained.  Its  length  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet, 
and  its  width  three  hundred.  There  are  seven  aisles,  and 
ninety  windows  of  stained  glass,  of  the  most  remarkable 
brilliancy  of  color.  At  mid-day,  when  the  sunlight  streamed 
through  them,  the  effect  was  glorious.      The   bright  rays, 


THE    GREAT    ALTAR MURILLo's   TRIBUTE.  335 

tinged  with  rainbow  hues,  stole  into  every  dark  nook  of  the 
edifice,  gilding  with  beauty  the  sculptured  features  of  a  saint, 
or  irradiating  the  dim  outline  of  the  sacred  picture.  The 
altar  mayor  (the  great  altar)  is  superb.  All  the  events  in  the 
life  of  our  Holy  Saviour,  from  his  birth  to  his  death,  are 
carved  in  oak.  In  the  rear  are  the  organ  and  the  coro.  The 
pipes  of  the  organ  are  like  a  great  forest  of  bamboo  canes. 
Along  the  front  of  this  grand  altar  (said  to  be  the  largest 
carving  in  oak  known  to  the  world),  were  kneeling  quite  a  num- 
ber of  the  Sevillanas,  as  motionless  as  statues,  with  their  eyes 
upon  the  image  of  the  Virgin.  They  did  not  even  manifest 
woman's  curiosity,  by  turning  to  look  at  us  as  we  passed 
them.  In  the  centre  of  the  church  is  the  tomb  of  Fernando 
Colon,  the  son  of  Columbus.  His  body  is  beneath  the  mar- 
ble pavement,  upon  which  are  carved  caravals.  There  is  an 
epitaph  containing  these  words :  "  To  Castile  and  Leon,  Colon 
gave  a  new  world."  From  this  many  have  contended  Co- 
lumbus was  buried  there. 

The  custodia  is  wrought  from  floor  to  dome  by  D'Arfc 
(the  Cellini  of  Spain).  There  are  two  pictures  of  saints  by 
3Iurillo,  and  a  "  Descent  from  the  Cross  "  by  Juan  Campana. 
It  was  a  painting  so  loved  by  Murillo,  that  he  was  wont  to 
stand  for  hours  before  it,  waiting,  as  he  said,  for  Christ  to 
come  down.  When  dying,  he  begged  to  be  buried  beneath 
its  shadow.  In  the  custodia  are  kept  the  treasures  of  the 
church.  They  are  of  immense  value,  and  are  of  diamonds, 
pearls,  rubies,  and  other  jewels.  We  saw  the  cross  made 
with  the  fiist  gold  brought  from  America  by  Columbus. 
Precious  relics  are  encased  in  vases  composed  entirely  of  the 
most  costly  stones,  and  the  regalia  used  at  certain  seasons  of 
religious  solemnity  is  rich  and  massive  beyond  description ; 
all  of  the  pure  metal,  and  set  with  diamonds.  When  the 
great  "  stream  of  gold  "  flowed  in  from  newly-found  America, 


336  tiOUVEMlKS    OF    TKAVIlL. 

every  ship  brought  an  accession  of  gifts  to  the  cathedral ;  and 
although,  during  the  wars  of  Napoleon,  many  of  the  treasures 
were  taken  away,  enough  yet  remain  to  make  the  custodia  a 
marvel  of  wealth.  The  key  of  the  city,  delivered  to  San 
Fernando  when  he  captured  it  from  the  Moors,  was  shown  to 
us;  also  a  vase  of  rock  crystal,  which  contains  within  it  one 
of  the  thorns  from  the  Saviour's  crown. 

In  the  Sola  Capitular,  with  its  fine  ceiling  and  remark- 
able pavement,  hangs  the  wonderful  picture  by  Murillo  of 
"  The  Conception."  It  is  certainly  almost  divine.  It  seems 
to  live,  to  breathe,  and  the  eyes  of  the  Virgin  beam  with  a 
holy  light,  which  steals  into  the  soul,  and  lingers  there  for 
long  hours  afterwards.  There  were  also  paintings  of  Pa- 
checo,  and  several  other  artists  of  celebrity. 

In  the  library  of  the  cathedral  we  saw  many  interesting 
letters  of  Columbus.  The  old  librarian  kindly  permitted  me 
to  read  them.  They  were  written  in  a  bold,  forcible  hand; 
the  style  was  terse  and  graphic.  In  one  he  described  the 
eclipse  of  the  sun  in  Jamaica,  and  the  means  by  which  he 
told  the  difference  of  time  between  the  two  hemispheres. 
There  was  a  bright  and  cheerful  spirit  in  his  language,  a  firm 
energy  and  determination  in  his  words,  indicating  clearly  that 
indomitable  will  which  soared  above  all  obstacles.  In  some 
of  the  letters  there  were  traces  of  sadness  and  sorrow  at  the 
unkindness  of  his  countrymen ;  but  like  a  golden  thread, 
through  both  triumph  and  disappointment,  ran  the  deep 
and  abiding  trust  in  the  goodness  of  God,  and  perfect  sub- 
mission to  his  wisdom.  A  fine  portrait  of  Columbus  hangs 
in  the  library,  where  also  was  the  famous  sword  of  Fernan 
GonsalvOj  the  great  captain  in  the  Moorii-h  wars.  His  hand 
must  have  possessed  a  giant's  strength  to  have  wielded  it. 
From  the  library  we  went  down  into  the  "  Court  of  Oranges," 


ASCENT  OF  THE  TOWER  GIEALDA.        337 

where  there  is  a  fountain.     It  was  used  by  the  Moslems  for 
their  ablutions,  and  was  called  the  "  sacred  water." 

Among  the  buildings  still  bearing  the  impress  of  the 
Moors,  none  interested  me  more  than  the  Giralda^  an  im- 
mense tower,  whence  the  meuddin  called  out  the  hour  of 
prayer  to  the  faithful  followers  of  the  prophet.  It  is  a  far 
more  graceful  structure  than  the  famous  "  Tower  of  the 
Clock  "  at  Venice.  It  may  be  styled  entirely  Moorish,  rising 
to  the  height  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Dim  colors,  as 
of  ancient  frescoes,  peep  out  from  the  time-worn  surface, 
which  is  broken  by  Saracenic  arches,  and  covered  by  deeply 
cut  arabesque  tracery.  A  spire,  one  hundred  feet  high,  was 
added  to  the  Giralda  in  1698,  by  Rinz,  a  Spanish  architect. 
The  pinnacle  is  crowned  with  a  bronze  statue  of  Faith,  named 
by  the  people  Giraldillo.  Although  the  figure  weighs  many 
thousand  pounds,  it  turns  and  veers  with  every  breeze. 
The  Giralda  is  now  the  belfry  of  the  cathedral.  There  are 
many  great  bells,  baptized,  and  under  the  protection  of  two 
female  saints,  Justina  and  Rufina.  They  were  lovely  girls, 
the  daughters  of  a  potter  of  Triana,  who  were  put  to  death 
in  287,  because  they  refused  to  bow  in  homage  before  the 
statue  of  Venus. 

The  ascent  of  the  tower  is  not  difficult.  AYe  went  up 
spiral  steps,  called  ramps,  so  wide  and  gradual,  persons  have 
gone  up  on  horseback.  The  view  is  grand  and  extensive. 
The  city  lay  at  our  feet,  with  many  of  its  streets  so  narrow, 
the  houses  appeared  separated  from  each  other  by  only  a  few 
feet.  Then  came  the  encircling  walls,  built  by  Caesar  thou- 
sands of  years  ago,  and  seeming  still  as  though  they  would 
endure  for  centuries.  Just  near  the  bank  of  the  river  were 
the  ruins  of  the  old  Moorish  castle,  used  in  the  Spanish  time 
as  the  abode  of  the  terrible  Inquisition.  Beyond  the  Guadal- 
quivir was  the  town  of  Triana,  where  the  gipsies  live,  and 
Vol.  I.— 15 


338  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

afar  off  the  ruins  of  Italica,  founded  by  Scipio  Africanus, 
after  he  had  expelled  the  Carthaginians  from  Spain.  Under 
his  fostering  care  it  became  the  rival  first,  and  then  the 
superior,  of  Seville.  It  was  the  birthplace  of  Trajan,  and 
of  the  excellent  Theodosius,  both  Roman  emperors.  There 
too  vras  Silius,  the  poet,  born.  Under  the  Gaths  and  the 
Moorish  dominion  it  continued  populous  and  flourishing.  It 
appears  singular  there  is  no  record  of  the  cause  of  its  de- 
struction, unless  it  were  by  some  convulsion  of  nature,  which 
overthrew  the  towers,  temples,  and  houses.  There  are  still 
traces  of  an  amphitheatre,  and  columns  of  rare  beauty  are 
often  dug  up  from  the  mass  of  earth  and  stone  which  have 
buried  it  deep  for  centuries. 

Leaving  these  ruins,  the  eye  rested  upon  a  fertile  and 
luxuriant  country,  with  fields  of  wheat  and  hills  of  olive 
trees,  groves  of  the  orange  and  hedges  of  the  cactus  plant. 
Villages  and  farm-houses,  sheltered  by  the  wide-spreading 
branches  of  the  chestnut,  rose  up  in  all  directions,  and  the 
long  aqueduct,  with  well-defined  arches,  stretching  across 
the  plain  to  the  mountain-heights  of  Carmona.  Afar  off, 
winding  between  verdant  banks,  was  the  Guadalquivir. 
Touched  by  the  sunlight,  it  was  indeed  the  "  bright  and 
shining  river  "  of  the  poet.  Long  we  gazed  upon  the  glowing 
panorama,  and  only  after  repeated  summons  could  leave  it. 
Coming  down,  we  drove  to  the  Alcazar,  one  of  the  most 
gorgeous  specimens  of  the  remarkable  architecture  of  the 
Moors.  It  is  built  upon  the  spot  once  occupied  by  the 
"  house  of  Caesar,"  and  has  some  of  the  peculiarities  of  all 
the  different  nations  who  have  inhabited  it.  However,  its 
strongest  nationality  of  aspect  is  from  the  Moorish  kings, 
who  made  within  its  walls  a  paradise  of  beauty.  There  is 
one  cotirt  with  an  entire  Moorish  facade,  with  pointed  arches 
and  overhanging   roof.     The  sculpture  is  ornamented  with 


PETER    THE.  CRUEL ^BLANCHE   OF   CASTILE.  339 

gilding  and  rich  colors;  and  nothing  can  be  imagined  more 
graceful  and  delicate  than  the  light  carving  of  the  arches 
which  spring  from  pillar  to  pillar  around  the  "  Hall  of  the 
Ambassadors,"  built  by  Peter  the  Cruel,  in  exact  imitation 
of  the  "  Hall  of  the  Alhambra  "  at  Granada.  A  balcony  be- 
neath the  tracery,  wrought  in  marble,  runs  around  it,  wliere 
the  women  assembled  to  look  down  upon  the  banquet-scene 
below  the  J].  But  not  always  was  it  the  "  abode  of  mirth ;  " 
for  upon  the  marble  pavement  yet  remains  the  stain  of 
blood.  It  was  the  blood  of  the  fair  young  brother  of  Peter 
the  Cruel,  whom  he  caused  to  be  murdered  in  that  glittering 
hall,  while  he  stood  in  the  balcony  above  to  witness  his 
death-struggle. 

All  the  doors  are  composed  of  small  pieces  of  wood, 
forming  a  perfect  mosaic.  Then  we  passed  through  long, 
vaulted  corridors  and  audience-chambers,  with  sculpture  and 
fairy-like  arabesques  cut  within  the  walls  and  ceilings.  Every 
thing  was.  oriental,  breathing  of  the  romance  and  poetry 
of  the  East.  Peter  the  Cruel,  who  prided  himself  upon 
being  "half  a  Moorish  king,"  restored  and  preserved  the 
adornments  of  the  ancient  sovereigns.  Isabella  and  Fer- 
dinand made  additions  to  the  Alcazar,  as  did  also  Charles  the 
Fifth,  who  here  espoused  Isabel  of  Portugal. 

Under  the  palace  we  saw  the  prison  of  Blanche  of  Cas- 
tile, where  she  was  kept  by  her  husband  for  long  months, 
placed  there  the  day  after  her  nuptials  with  him.  Near  by 
were  the  Moorish  baths,  called  afterwards  the  "  Baths  of 
Maria  de  Padilla,"  in  honor  of  the  beautiful  mistress  of 
Peter  the  Cruel.  Her  portrait  adorns  one  of  the  halls,  and 
gives  an  earnest  of  that  bewitching  loveliness  which  could 
even  subdue  the  tiger-hearted  monarch. 

Ascending  from  the  dim,  dark  prison  of  the  hapless 
Blanche,  we  came  out  upon  a  terrace  overhanging  the  gar- 


340  SOTTVENmS    OF   TRAVEL. 

dens.  Ah  !  most  lovely  were  they,  "  fair  as  the  gardens  of 
Hesperus."  For  hours  we  wandered  amid  the  fragrant  lahy- 
rinths,  and  beneath  the  shade  of  the  orange  trees,  wliose 
blossoms  were  just  opening  and  filling  the  air  with  their 
sweet  odors.  There  were  numerous  Moorish  kiosks,  or 
temples,  with  elaborately  ornamented  columns  and  floors 
of  rich  mosaics;  then  statues,  and  grottoes,  jessamine-cov- 
ered bowers,  and  fountains  of  all  forms  and  sizes,  spring- 
ing up  on  all  sides  as  we  walked  along,  and  casting  their 
pearly  drops  over  the  rare  flowers  around  them.  There 
was,  too,  a  miniature  lake,  and  within  it  an  island,  peopled 
with  Neptune  and  his  tritons  and  sea-nymphs.  From  the 
ground  beneath  sprang  up  innumerable  streams  of  water, 
which,  falling  over  them,  seemed  like  a  bright  and  sparkling 
veil  Then  we  entered  great  areas,  or  squares,  whose  walls 
were  formed  entirely  of  lemon  trees,  cut  so  smooth  and  even, 
they  appeared  as  immense  blocks  of  verd  antique.  Gothic 
arches,  carved  in  this  living  green,  conducted  us  to  par- 
terres of  precious  flowers  and  groves  of  tropical  plants. 

An  enormous  orange  tree  was  pointed  out  to  us  as  the 
great  wonder  of  the  garden.  It  was  planted  more  than  four 
hundred  years  ago,  by  Peter  the  Cruel,  and  is  still  strong 
and  luxuriant.  It  covers  a  great  space  of  ground,  and 
almost  equals  the  banyan  tree  of  the  East,  which  is  said  to 
shelter  a  regiment  of  men.  The  branches  of  the  orange  tree 
are  so  heavy,  that  long  pillars  have  been  placed  under  them 
to  sustain  their  weight.  x\t  least  fifty  persons  could  stand 
beneath  it,  and  be  perfectly  shielded  from  the  sun's  rays. 
The  fruit  is  of  a  deep  golden  hue,  and  not  so  pleasant  to  the 
taste  as  the  oranges  of  Cuba. 

The  Casa  de  Pilatos  (the  house  of  Pontius  Pilate)  next 
occupied  our  attention.  Around  this  edifice  are  gathered 
many  wild   legends  and   stories,  from   which,  however,  wo 


PICTURES    FOR   THE    PARIS    EXPOSITION.  341 

pluck  the  truth,  that  it  was  built  about  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, by  a  noble  Spaniard,  who  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
Holy  Land,  and  upon  his  return  erected  this  palace  in  pre- 
cise imitation  of  that  of  the  Koman  tetrarch  at  Jerusalem. 
The  architecture  is  of  the  Saracenic-Gothic,  and  the  grand 
stairway  is  magnificent.  Near  the  first  landing  is  a  painting 
of  the  cage  containing  the  cock  which  "  crowed  thrice  "  when 
Peter  denied  his  Lord.  Then  comes  the  corridor,  where 
the  guard  of  the  centurions  were  seated,  and  the  balcony 
whence  the  Roman  governor  proclaimed  the  sentence  of 
death  upon  the  Saviour.  The  palai:5e  belongs  now  to  the 
Duke  of  Medina-Caeli,  who  is  endeavoring  to  restore  it  to  its 
former  grandeur.  There  were  multitudes  of  workmen  re- 
painting it  after  the  Moorish  style,  or  retouching  and  re- 
calling to  view  the  lingering  traces  of  the  past. 

"  Before  Decay's  effacing  fingers, 
Have  swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers." 

In  the  centre  of  the  building  was  a  pleasant  square,  called 
the  '•  Court  of  Orange  Trees."  The  earth  under  the  trees 
was  entirely  covered  with  banks  of  violets.  Through  these 
we  passed  to  a  charming  studio,  where  an  artist  was  painting 
pictures  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Medina-Caeli,  to  send 
to  the  Paris  Exposition.  He  had,  besides,  a  vast  collection 
of  pictures  representing  the  national  costumes  of  Spain  : 
those  of  the  maja  and  majo  of  Andalucia  were  particularly 
attractive.  In  one  of  the  long  galleries  we  saw  many  statues 
and  columns  which  have  been  dug  up  from  the  ruins  of 
Italica. 

Leaving  all  these  relics  of  by-gone  days,  we  drove  out 
into  the  country,  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir 
to  Las  Delicias,  which  had  so  charmed  us  the  evening  of 
our  arrival.     It  was  just  the  hour  for  the  promenade,  and 


342  SOUVENIRS   OF   TRAVEL. 

the  avenues  aud  walks  were  filled  with  graceful  and  lovely 
women,  all  dressed  in  black,  with  long  mantillas,  and  bril- 
liant fans.  The  men  were  handsome  and  robust  in  ap- 
pearance, with  a  gallant  and  chivalric  bearing. 

In  returning,  we  stopped  at  the  "  Palace  of  St.  Telmo," 
occupied  by  the  Infanta  and  her  husband,  the  Duke  de 
Montpensier.  It  was  once  a  convent,  but  is  now  an  edifice 
shining  with  gilt,  and  gorgeously  embellished  with  white 
marble. 

As  we  entered  the  walls,  we  passed  the  ''  Tower  of 
Gold,"  which  the  Sevillanos  say  was  built  by  Julius  Caesar. 
It  bears,  however,  very  clear  evidences  of  its  Moorish 
origin. 

The  houses  of  Seville  are  constructed  in  the  most  agree- 
able fashion  ;  they  all  have  an  atrium,  or  court,  in  the  centre, 
paved  with  marble,  and  shaded  by  great  orange,  lemon,  and 
citron  trees  ;  then  there  are  vases  of  flowers,  aud  fountains 
falling  into  sculptured  basins.  In  this  court  the  family  re- 
ceive their  guests  during  the  summer  time,  only  occupying 
the  drawing-rooms  in  winter.  A  wide  corridor  leads  from 
the  patio  to  the  street,  where  there  is  an  iron-latticed  gate, 
revealing  the  interior  of  every  house.  We  often  tarried 
before  them  to  look  upon  the  statues,  the  flowers,  and  dark- 
eyed  senoritas,  and  to  inhale  the  perfume  of  the  orange  blos- 
soms. At  night  lamps  are  suspended  from  the  branches  of 
the  trees,  and  gay  and  happy  groups  with  guitars  assemble, 
forming  glowing  pictures,  and  awakening  the  imagination  to 
weave  a  romance  for  the  dwellers  of  each  mansion. 

Seville  was  the  birthplace  of  Murillo,  and  is  the  home  of 
his  glory.  Nowhere  else  can  we  behold  the  perfection  of  liis 
genius.  In  the  Museo  there  is  a  room  with  eighteen  of  his 
finest  pictures.  It  was  to  me  as  a  shrine,  where  I  could 
worship  his  wonderful  talent.     There  are  no  paintings  in  the 


MURILLO'S   PICTURES VELASQUEZ.  343 

world  so  suggestive,  to  me,  of  purity,  holiness,  and  sweetness. 
The  figure  of  the  Virgin,  in  his  pictures,  has  a  bewildering 
beauty,  which  enchants  the  most  stoical  heart.  The  white 
and  blue  drapery  flows  around  the  form  as  though  enamored 
of  the  loveliness  it  enveloped.  The  eyes  raised  to  Heaven 
express  the  holy  joy  of  her  virgin  soul — 

"  Her  graceful  arms  in  meekness  bending 
Across  her  gently  budding  breast." 

Around  her  were  groups  of  angels,  floating  as  it  were  in  a  sea 
of  golden  light.  Hours  passed  in  the  contemplation  of  these 
pictures  of  Murillo,  and  though  there  were  many  other  noble 
paintings  by  famous  artists,  they  could  not  withdraw  my 
admiration  from  Murillo. 

Velasquez  is  likewise  a  native  of  Seville,  but  very  few  of 
his  pictures  are  here.  In  the  church  of  the  Caridad  there 
is  a  striking  picture,  called  "  The  Thirst  of  Murillo."  Its 
subject  is  Moses  smiting  the  rock,  and  the  thirst  of  the  mul- 
titudes around  is  developed  in  the  most  bold  and  striking 
manner. 

From  the  Museo  we  walked  through  many  narrow  streets, 
until  we  came  to  the  house  where  Murillo  lived.  His  paint- 
ing-room was  a  bright  and  cheerful  spot,  opening  into  a  gar- 
den with  statues  and  fountains.  He  was  buried  in  the  church 
of  Santa  Cruz,  which  was  destroyed  by  the  French.  There 
is  now  a  tablet  beneath  the  "  Descent  from  the  Cross,"  by 
Campana,  with  an  inscription  to  his  memory,  although  the 
dust  of  his  mortal  tenement  has  long  since  been  cast  forth  to 
mingle  with  eai-th. 

Having  a  great  curiosity  to  see  the  gipsies,  one  morning 
we  crossed  the  Guadalquivir  and  drove  to  Triana,  a  small 
town  opposite  to  Seville.  The  origin  of  this  remarkable 
people,  the   gitanos,    or   zingali,    is   enwrapt   in   mystery. 


34:4:  SOUVENIRS    OF   TRAVEL. 

They  have  appeared  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe,  and  sud- 
denly vanished,  none  knew  how  or  where.  They  say  of 
themselves  that  their  ancestors  were  driven  away  from  Egypt, 
their  native  land,  because  they  refused  shelter  and  succor  to 
the  holy  Virgin  and  the  child  Jesus.  As  a  punishment  for 
this  cruelty,  the  Almighty  doomed  them  to  wander  until  the 
last  day  over-  all  the  earth,  every  where  houseless  and  de- 
spised. Like  the  Jews,  they  have  preserved  the  peculiar 
type  of  feature  which  marks  them  as  apart  from  the  rest  of 
the  human  race.  They  have  a  rich  brown  hue  of  complexion, 
between  the  olive  of  the  Spaniard,  and  the  bronze  color  of 
our  Indians.  Their  eyes  are  wonderful,  so  large,  glittering, 
and  metallic  in  their  light.  There  is  a  burning  intensity  in 
their  gaze,  which  absolutely  fascinates  the  beholder  ;  and  we 
could  readily  believe  the  story  of  the  guide,  that  a  zingali 
girl  will  so  entirely  magnetize  a  person,  whose  fortune  she 
is  telling,  he  will  be  quite  unconscious  of  having  his  pocket 
picked  during  the  time.  AYe  passed  through  many  dark 
alley  ways,  too  narrow  to  be  called  streets,  where  they  live 
in  miserable  houses  crumbling  with  decay.  They  appeared 
quite  unfurnished ;  and  a  large  pile  of  ashes,  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  indicated  it  was  their  only  bed,  for  upon  it  were 
laying  several  children  almost  naked. 

When  the  gipsy  women  are  quite  young,  they  are  really 
beautiful,  and  their  forms  are  of  exquisite  proportions  and 
graceful  development ;  but  time  and  poverty  soon  change 
them  to  objects  frightful  to  look  upon.  The  fierce,  witch-like 
expression  of  an  old  gitana  woman  is  likewise  beyond  descrip- 
tion. The  men  are  stalwart  and  robust,  extremely  pictur- 
esque in  costume,  with  high  pointed  hats,  cloaks  of  sheep-skin, 
crimson  faja  sash  around  their  waist,  breeches  of  leather, 
and   a  gay-colored  handkerchief  about  their  necks.     They 


THE   GIPSIES.  345 

were  occupied,  many  of  them,  as  blacksmiths,  and  some  were 
examining  horses.  It  is  said  they  are  vastly  skilled  as  jock- 
eys, and  have  a  singular  power  over  the  most  restive  horse, 
rendering  him,  by  one  whispered  word,  as  docile  as  a  lamb. 
From  this  fact,  the  peasants  often  say  "  the  zingali  are 
leagued  with  the  devil."  The  women  are  all  fortune-tellers, 
and  sell  love-spells  and  powders.  Although  treacherous 
cheats  and  thieves,  they  are  celebrated  for  their  chastity, 
while  the  men  are  free  from  the  vice  of  drunkenness. 

Looking  into  one  of  the  wretched  houses,  we  saw  a  most 
lovely  young  creature,  about  fifteen,  reclining  on  her  bed  of 
ashes,  with  a  grace  of  attitude  which  would  have  befitted  a 
queen.  Her  eyes  were  as  radiant  as  though  the  very  sunlight 
were  concentrated  in  the  dark  orbs,  and  her  long  hair  fell 
like  a  black  mantilla  around  her  neck  and  bosom.  When  I 
spoke  to  her,  she  opened  her  full  voluptuous  lips,  and  smiling, 
revealed  teeth  of  pearly  whiteness.  What  a  study  for  an 
artist  was  this  rude  zingali  girl !  What  a  model  for  a  sculp- 
tor !  How  ardently  did  we  wish  some  kind  hand  might 
snatch  this  beautiful  flower  from  the  ruin  and  contamination 
around. 

From  Triana  we  recrossed  the  Guadalquivn*,  and  drove 
to  the  Fdhrica  de  Tahacos,  where  snuff  and  cigars  are  made. 
The  building  is  of  vast  dimensions,  and  belongs  to  the  gov- 
ernment. It  is  surrounded  by  a  moat,  and  is  a  most  dreary- 
looking  spot.  There  were  four  thousand  women  engaged  in 
rolling  up  cigars.  There  were  four  great  vaulted  rooms,  each 
containing  one  thousand  women  seated  at  small  tables,  assort- 
ing, cutting,  and  rolling  the  leaves  into  cigars.  Poor  crea- 
tures !  they  toil  from  seven  in  the  morning  until  seven  at 
night,  and  only  receive  tiveniy  cents  as  wages  per  day. 
They  had  a  pallid,  unhealthy  look,  as  though  ill  fed.  They 
Vol.  L— 15* 


346  SOUTENIES   OF   TRAVEL. 

certainly  were  not  followers  of  Malthus,  but  believers  in  the 
divine  command  ''  to  increase  and  multiply;"  for  such  quan- 
tities of  children  were  never  before  seen  gathered  in  four 
vaulted  rooms.  They  were  of  all  sizes,  from  the  infant  one 
week  old  to  the  child  of  eigh/:.  (Beyond  that  age  they  became 
"  workers  in  tobacco.")  These  little  beings  were  brought  in 
at  stated  hours,  by  the  larger  children,  to  be  nursed  by  their 
mothers,  and  then  taken  back  to  their  wretched  hovels.  In 
the  apartments  where  the  men  worked,  a  profound  silence 
was  remarked,  but  in  those  allotted  to  the  women  there  was 
an  overwhelming  sound  of  many  voices,  like  the  roaring  of  a 
water-fall.  At  some  of  the  tables  we  noticed  very  pretty 
young  girls,  with  flowers  in  their  shining  black  hair,  and  a 
certain  little  coquetry  of  dress,  in  spite  of  their  hard  and  toil- 
some life. 

The  drives  around  Seville  are  interesting,  and  constantly 
amid  traces  of  the  Moorish  dominion,  or  of  the  older  Roman 
days,  or  of  the  more  recent  rule  of  the  Spaniards.  Just 
without  the  walls  are  the  grounds  of  the  Feria  (the  Fair,) 
held  every  year,  and  a  source  of  infinite  amusement  and 
gaiety.  Many  curious  things  are  seen  there,  which  are  st}'-ied 
by  the  inhabitants  "  cosas  de  Espaiia."  This  signifies  cus- 
toms, manners,  and  incidents  peculiar  to  Spain,  and  never 
seen  elsewhere.  Whenever  we  would  remark  upon  the  sin- 
gularity of  any  fashion,  or  habit,  they  would  quickly  say, 
"  Seiiora,  son  cosas  de  Espaiia." 

Returning  to  the  city,  we  saw  the  Quemadero,  where  the 
heretics  were  burnt,  or  those  suspected  of  sorcery.  The  last 
person  who  sufi"ered  from  the  auto-da-fe,  was  a  young  girl, 
who  had  discovered  the  means  of  hatching  eggs  by  artificial 
heat.  For  this  mortal  offence  she  was  burned  in  1780,  sur- 
rounded  by  an  enormous  Crowd,  as  eager  and  joyous  as  though 
at  a  bull-fight. 


BEGGAES — DEPARTURE  PROM   SEVILLE.  347 

The  Plaza  de  Toros  is  very  large,  but  no  bull-fight  took 
place  while  we  were  in  Seville  ;  it  was  not  the  season  for  this 
diversion. 

As  "  cosas  de  Espana,"  the  beggars  must  not  be  forgotten. 
They  are  surely  the  most  eloquent  and  pathetic  of  any  we 
have  met  in  Europe.  The  moment  we  passed  out  of  the 
hotel-door  we  were  surrounded,  and  implored  by  the  love  of 
''  the  Virgin,  the  Father,  the  Son,"  to  give  alms.  There 
were  some  noble-looking  old  men,  worthy  to  have  been  the 
originals  of  Murillo's  pictures,  with  long  white  beards  over 
their  tattered  garments.  Many  were  blind,  and  others  afflict- 
ed with  horrid  sores,  which  they  uncovered  as  one  went  by 
them.  It  was  really  terrible.  We  saw  one  negro  beggar, 
who  had  lost  both  his  hands ;  he  stood  at  the  corner,  crying 
out,  "  Have  pity  upon  the  poor  creature  without  hands." 
Stopping  to  give  him  a  trifle,  I  inquired  how  he  came  here ; 
and  he  related  a  sad  story  of  his  misery,  after  having  left  a 
kind  master,  who  brought  him  from  Cuba.  At  first  he  had 
delighted  in  his  freedom,  but  by  accident  becoming  thus 
maimed,  he  had  endured  terrible  sufi"erings  from  starvation, 
and  now  only  lived  by  the  scanty  charity  bestowed.  He  said 
that,  being  a  negro,  the  other  beggars  would  not  fraternize 
with  him,  and  thus  he  was  far  more  wretched  than  any 
other. 

On  the  tenth  of  March  we  left  Seville,  and  in  the  dili- 
gence proceeded  to  Madrid.  We  were  up  by  sunrise,  and 
walked  through  the  narrow  streets  to  the  "  Office  of  the 
Administration,"  where  we  were  regularly  installed  into  the 
"  Interior,"  with  three  other  passengers.  Our  young  friend 
M.,  who  had  come  up  from  Cadiz  to  see  us,  waved  his  hand 
until  the  windings  of  the  way  shut  him  from  our  view. 

Seville  is  decidedly  a  charming  city,  rich  in  antiquities 
of  the  gallant  Moorish  people ;  rich  in  its  precious  pictures, 


348  SOUYENTRS   OF  TRAVEL. 

its  grand  cathedral,  its  lofty  Giralda,  and  euchanting  Deli- 
cias.     Well  may  the  Spaniards  say, 

"  Quien  no  ha  visto  a  Sevilla, 
No  lia  visto  a  maravilla." 

"  He  who  has  not  at  Seville  been, 
Has  not,  I  trow,  a  wonder  seen." 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Travel 

D919 
.L65 

1857 

v.l 


